A Betting Crowd
by Serenanna
Summary: Part 2 of an ongoing series. A not so innocent statement turns into a bet, and a bet turn into a lot more. No tubular pieces of fabric called skirts were harmed in the production of this dirty piece of . . . well . . . RoyxRiza, Lemon, Elevators.
1. A Skirt By Any Other Name

A Betting Crowd

A Full Metal Alchemist fanfiction, By Serenanna

Part 1 – A Skirt by Any Other Name

Warnings and Disclaimers: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist or any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with. I'll return them later after, promise. There is adult content and sexual situations in this story. So, if you're under 18, leave now before your virgin eyes are scarred forever; if you're over 18, enjoy! There is also aggressive teasing, rough foreplay, and creative use of office and library type settings in this fic, including elevators. Yes, I said elevators. If those hentai thoughts alone aren't enough to ward you off, hang on for the ride.

Story Notes: Time frame for this fic doesn't matter as my knowledge of FMA is a bit scattered but obviously before the ending and Maes's death, and set during the anime series. Also, this is a Roy and Riza fic along with implied Ed and Winry. This fic should be viewed as taking place between Overhaul, and Overhaul 2: The Tune Up as there are some minor connections. Being as this is fanfiction, liberties were taken with the actions of the characters and certain parts of the fic are not canon, I just don't know which ones. Certain clichés usual to Roy and Riza fics are also being tossed out after having a lengthy discussion with a military vet and making sure the clichés weren't canon. If it goes against the grain of what you like in Roy/Riza fics, tough. I also don't know the exact layout of their offices, so I'm winging it. This fic hinges on substantially romantic plot, each chapter is really, really long, and is considerably hentai. Beta reading has been done by Darkilluser. (Thank you!) Read the above disclaimers again if you're still squeamish, but I assure you, it'll be worth it. No tubular pieces of fabric called skirts were harmed in the production of this dirty piece of smut . . . well . . .

* * *

Why oh why was she doing this again?

Riza Hawkeye asked herself that very question as she tapped her heel on the floor of the lift while it rode up the shaft to her office in Central Headquarters.

Oh right, she was doing this for the good of her female friends in the military, even if none of them knew it yet. She deserved a medal from all the other female officers just for trying, even more so if she could pull it off. Hell, shutting down Roy's scheming alone made it worth the aggravation for just one day - one day. Those two words ran like a mantra through her head, one day, one day, just one day, one bloody day. She just had to survive one day in a skirt out of her own volition and all the men in Headquarters would be begging her to put her pants back on. Or they'd be begging her for dates, especially Havoc.

A shudder ran through the Lieutenant at that thought. This was all Colonel Mustang's fault anyway. If he hadn't opened his mouth about how women in the military should wear skirts, yet again, it wouldn't have started the whole argument . . . or the bet. Riza knew he was joking, like he always did. She usually kept her annoyance with it to herself, but yesterday she had finally had enough. It must have been the stress of the piles of accumulated work not being done, the goofing off, or the way he kept looking at her. Combined, it grated on her usually calm nerves until she was just itching for something to make her snap. All it took was one statement, and snap she did.

Riza was cleaning her guns when it started, pulling back the hammer and releasing it with a clink each time the jokes or his stares boring into the back of her head got to her. The rate at which she manipulated the gun only increased as the laughter went on. She could handle it, even if she should have been yelling at them to get back to work. She always found a way to deal with it afterwards, usually taking it out on the target range. And she was used to his arrogance and mild sexism. So he thought he was God's gift to women-kind. He was allowed it a little, since the only people who took the act seriously were the poor girls he seduced and himself. Roy wouldn't know a real woman if one came up and slapped him across the face. At least he respected her and her work. To that end, she was used to Roy Mustang and his ways, or so she thought. That day wasn't any different. She just needed to blow off steam in the range when they were all done. Yet, all it took was just one sentence to finally get to her, "I'm sure Lieutenant Hawkeye could wear a skirt, and none of us would know the difference."

The safety on the gun in her hand clicked off and she accidentally, or intentionally, fired a shot that went straight up, embedding itself into the ceiling. They all went silent and stared at her, waiting for an outburst that would have come if rational thought hadn't kicked into Riza Hawkeye. Suddenly this wasn't an office joke anymore. With one flippant sentence, Roy had turned it into a personal challenge to her sense of self as a woman. Was she that invisible to him? Did he hate her that much, even if she kept on top of him for his own good? Was he that arrogant to underestimate her? Did he even have the same respect her that she afforded him? She knew him well enough, or so she thought; yet this was a different game between them now, and the blonde Lieutenant could feel it.

He was challenging her, the tone of it was in his voice when he said it, and he liked challenging people and pulling their strings. She always did know that he liked fire, and loved playing with it even more, but she suddenly had to wonder how many times he had gotten burnt. Regardless, he had crossed the line, and the thought of pulling him back in his place made her all too giddy as an idea entered her mind. It was a thought of pure insanity, but . . . if it worked, Roy Mustang would never want to see her in a skirt in their office again. But could she do it? She heard a snort of laughter behind her, and suddenly she knew she could, if only for the Colonel's own good. He would notice her, they all would, or she was no woman. "Twenty says I can wear a skirt, and not only turn the heads of every male in Headquarters, but also get you to rethink your ideas," Riza said as she fished a bill out of her wallet, holding it in the air between two fingers as if she was tipping a waiter.

The challenge was accepted. Havoc practically ripped the money from her hand as she heard Roy's laughter turn into a snicker, "You're that confident you can change my mind? How are you going to do that? Drive us all to distraction?"

"What's the matter? Afraid I might do just that?" she asked softly, turning in her chair slightly to look at him, her brown eyes curious and innocent even if the curl of her lips was anything but. There was something igniting in his dark eyes, and she couldn't tell if it was a touch of jealousy or just his arrogance again. Before she knew it, Roy had slapped down another twenty into Jean Havoc's hands, the pile of money growing. "You're on, Lieutenant. You have leave to wear whatever you want tomorrow as long as it looks remotely like the rest of the uniforms; I'm sure you won't disappoint us."

The betting continued unabated, and Roy disappeared back into his office. She had the dignity not to blush at the obviously flirtatious come-on the Colonel added in. He didn't mean it anyway. He never did. He had always casually flirted with her since that first day when she'd been assigned under him, but he always went home with a different woman each night. He had also pushed for miniskirts in uniforms back then too. Those few months when she had started working in the office, she hated him, but that was until their first assignment ended in a firefight. Somewhere in the middle of that battle, whatever façade Roy had been hiding behind slipped, replaced with a haunted look as they were forced to kill their target, a group of Ishbalian rebels who still believed the war was going on.

In the aftermath, he let her in as to why he wanted to become Fuhrer; to stop history from repeating itself. After that, she respected him, and devoted her work to his cause, if only so she didn't have to see that look on his face again. To think that all happened about seven years ago, before chimeras, and before the Elric brothers. He still flirted with her, mildly, and still dated women with intelligence scores equal to the caliber of her guns. For all his teasing, he never actually followed through, or changed too much either. Him and his scheming over skirts, of all things. Riza's brown eyes hardened, and she went back to polishing one of her firearms. Silently, she swore retribution for this. One way or another, Roy and his scheming were going down by her hand.

That had been the end of it in her mind until she went home to make good on winning her bet. She had just the thing too, remembering the outfit from when she passed training. It was her first dress uniform, before the policies changed and longer skirts were enforced for formal occasions instead of the shorter skirts. She had a soft spot in her heart for the uniform though, except for that skirt. The coat she had always loved over her jacket and the black overcoats, which was why she saved it. Her sense of aesthetics demanded some revisions of it to the skirt at least. After updating the uniform with the insignias of her current rank, and securing a pet sitter for Black Hayate, she went to bed that night, feeling more confident than she had in a long time.

Apparently that confidence was showing as she stepped off the lift and into the fourth floor atrium. The short jacket she usually wore was replaced with a blue and silver trimmed trench coat with gold braids over her usual black turtleneck and shoulder holster. The skirt underneath ran straight down her legs to mid thigh, slit up the back seam with an overlap that opened with each stride she took. It was short, and tight, like he kept asking for. A fear ran through her that the black garter belt she wore underneath would flash or pop loose the moment she sat down. It was bad enough that the shaded tops of the sheer nude stockings she choose flashed between steps as she walked. Maybe she shouldn't have worn them. Stockings were a little excessive given the expense of silk and hand-sewn production. On second thought, it would be worth it when she turned around, the line of seams down the back accenting her legs. Riza even upped the ante with dangerously pointed, and dangerously high-heeled black shoes. And to think she even put on some light make-up too. But, given the reaction her outfit had even before she entered the building, Roy and the men would never know what hit them.

Coming up the steps to the building, one of the teenage aides running around dropped a stack of about 500 pages and folders he was carrying in her wake. One of the guys repairing the carpentry in the main hall stumbled over a board when she smiled at him. It had been gratifying, enhancing her step with confidence as her heels clicked on the floor. The crowd of blue uniforms was thick today on their floor as she made her way through, sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of pants. The Lieutenant could feel eyes on her as she walked, the hallway parting like a school of fish before her stride. It would be just her luck that word of their bet had made it all over Headquarters, and as more heads turned towards her, she was sure it had. Every man she passed did a double-take, bumped into something or someone, got smacked in the head by other female officers, or worse. Most of them just outright stopped and stared. Even a few of the women stopped and looked. If looks could kill, she probably would have died a thousand deaths from the jealous stares. Riza hadn't felt so much like an object before, but . . . there was a thrill of power to it as well; knowing men and women alike were looking and thinking similar, if opposing thoughts.

She walked up to the office doorway, her grin widening along with her stride. Just as the First Lieutenant was about to walk in, Private Scieszka came running up to her, the librarian yanking her away from the door before could even say hello. "What in the world-?"

"Have you gone daft?!" she asked hysterically, glancing around at the looming audience of men watching the two women. Riza blinked, not knowing for the life of her what she was talking about. "It's all over Central, the Library, Headquarters, I can't believe you even showed up today!" she screeched, trying to keep her voice and her panic down. "Do you have any idea how much this'll set back the women in the military if you fail?"

A smirk spread across Riza's lip, her hunches proving right. "I should have known this little war would be public. I'm not going to fail that easily, Private, or have you looked around at the male species yet today? You'd think all of them never saw a woman in a skirt and heels before."

The last statement she said a little too loud for a private conversation. Glancing over her shoulder, most of the crowd suddenly looking very interested in anything but the pair or were moving along. She looked back at Scieszka, smiling as a blush crept onto the young woman's face. "How did you find out anyway?" Riza asked finally.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, he found out about the betting pool after hours and started spreading it around," the brown-haired young woman admitted as she adjusted her glasses. "Most of Central is in on it now."

Riza blinked, "They're all betting? On me?"

"Most of the women are, along with Hughes, Armstrong, and the Elrics."

"What?! Who let those two into the pool? They're not old enough to bet!"

"Well, Fullmetal is fifteen, and I heard what he's going through. I've also seen him blushing as soon as Miss Winry Rockbell's name is mentioned, and then denying anything when I ask, so it's probably only a matter of time. And Alphonse isn't that dumb either for a little boy trapped in hulking chunk of metal, so I'd say they're entitled being treated like adults now . . . besides, I heard him mutter something about serving the bastard Colonel right."

Sighing, Riza let it go as the Private did have a point. It was useless to worry over their innocence and the lack thereof, even if she knew it was the military lifestyle corrupting those two boys. And the last thing she wanted to learn about was Edward Elric's social life. They were growing up far too quickly. "I don't want to know anymore, just tell me the odds, please?" she asked, changing the topic.

"The men ran up the odds to 1 to 20 that you'll win, and the Colonel's odds are 2 to 1 that he'll still swear us all to skirts anyway, regardless of if you win or lose."

Suddenly, Hawkeye felt like shooting something as her heel tapped dangerous on the stone floor. So everyone was confident that she'd fail or be ignored, huh? And her odds were 1 to 20? So she was the dark horse huh? Suddenly, she felt like putting more money on the bet if her odds were that low, but . . . she had to win it. "Don't worry, Private, you'll keep your pants, they don't know who they're messing with," Riza said dangerously, her brown eyes burrowing holes in the door.

Scieszka smiled despite the wrongness of that statement, liking the look on her superior's face. "Yes, Lieutenant, our hope is riding on you, along with my thirty. Good luck."

As she bounded away, Riza finally opened the door and walked in, her anger freezing into an icy stare. Apparently the men had all arrived early for the spectacle; a shocking change from their usual tardiness. They were all at their desks and had their noses buried in paperwork when she walked in; another change from normal that made her start to wonder. But then again, the work was forgotten as soon as she walked over to her own desk, her stare turning into a calculating look when they finally noticed her. Havoc reached for the tissues like they were life preservers, a raging nosebleed starting as soon as she cracked a smile in his direction. Both Fuery and Breda looked like their eyes were about to pop out of their heads, glued in their seats as she dropped her bag on her desk, standing just to the side of it for full effect. Once his nose was under control, Jean looked up and stared as well, something about him reminding her of a deer frozen by car headlights. "Don't you three have work to do?" She asked as she glanced at the papers on her desk, all of them meant for the Colonel. "Is he in?"

Fuery seemed to find his voice first of the three of them, blinking rapidly with a slight twitch to his head as he looked back down at his papers, "Yes, First Lieutenant, but um . . ."

"Um, what, Sergeant Major?"

"He might be napping . . .?"

Napping, this early in the morning? Usually he saved them for the lazy afternoons. Riza growled, and patted her underarm and hip to make sure her guns were in place before taking off the coat and throwing it over her chair. She grabbed the papers on the desk and stormed towards the door, three pairs of eyes following her movement. Once she was gone, Kain was the first one to speak, exhaling slowly until it can out like a sigh, "Now I know why Black Hayate listens to her, guns and all."

"We never should have gotten that pool going, we're all gonna lose," Havoc said, his voice nasal from the twists of tissues up his nose, "The Colonel's gonna be ruined."

"Ruined? This may be the best damned thing to happen in this office for months. When it's all over, maybe the Colonel will finally listen to Hawkeye's advice, and maybe she'll finally remove the stick from her ass," Breda muttered before grinning at the thought.

"It's a nice ass too . . ." Havoc added, grabbing more tissues. Just then, the door to Colonel Mustang's office slammed shut with a bang the reverberated through the office, including the windows. The three men looked at the door with a mixture of curiosity and horror, wondering what exactly happened, even if they knew it was all Riza's doing. Havoc broke the silence first, asking almost rhetorically, "We never stood a chance in hell of winning, did we?"

"Well . . ." Breda started to say before Fuery cut him off, "No, we didn't. Men never stood a chance of winning anything the moment women stepped onto the land."

"Really? Not all of them seem that . . . diabolically conniving . . ." Havoc said as he glanced at the Colonel's door, wondering why it was silent after the bang except for the three of them, "And I didn't know that you were that philosophical when it came to the opposite sex, Fuery."

"I was interested in human biology and behavior for a while, trying to draw correlations between us and animals in regards to the sexes. I couldn't find too much, but I've found that any man can be brought low by a woman if she knows that they're our greatest weakness, any man can be undone by a single glance from a woman if she knows her power. First Lieutenant Hawkeye, it appears, realizes this now as well. She's no mere opponent and co-worker like we assumed under her calm demeanor. I think we all have forgotten how female she can be; the Colonel must have pushed her into a corner enough that she's realized how to push back," Fuery explained as the two men stared at him, their jaws dropping open, the new philosophical level apparently going over their heads, before he added, "Or she just looks good in a miniskirt and heels, and she knows it."

He grinned as his two co-workers laughed nervously, all three of them returning to their paper work. Of course they wouldn't understand women or their latent powers over men, especially Havoc and the Colonel. As soon as they did, and respected the opposite sex for it, then maybe all the talk of enforcing skirts on women would stop, or at very least, they'd get dates for more than one night. Fuery held back a sigh, glancing down at the endless stacks of papers and folders. At least he was comforted in knowing he'd won the side bets he had going over who would have the first nosebleed of the day. Havoc was always nice and predictable like that.

* * *

Roy sat in his chair, tilted back as the morning sun shone down into his office, lightly snoring. God, he was tired. The night before had been terrible for his sleep, waking up almost every hour until his clock struck about three in the morning. He hadn't tossed and turned that badly in months, but at least he was comforted in knowing why he couldn't sleep rather than losing sleep from the usual nightmares. It was Riza and that damned bet. Why did he have to open his mouth and say that? It had been so callous of him given all she did for him, but . . . he did have to admit some of the truth to it. He did rarely notice any of the women in their service; the uniforms so shapeless and blending that if it wasn't for obvious features, and names, sometimes he wouldn't even know the difference. But still, he shouldn't have called her out by name. It was an entirely too personal line he had crossed between them, but once she issued the bet, there was no turning back. And in truth, he admired his First Lieutenant even more for stepping up to the challenge rather than just berating him for the insult. What was the worst she could do anyway? It was just a short skirt.

But of course, it was just the thought of her in a skirt that kept him up last night, his mind unable to shut down long enough to sleep. How exactly would she look in a skirt anyway? She had promised to turn every head in Central, which had to be impossible unless she somehow had the shortest, tightest skirt in creation and the legs to back it up. That didn't seem like the Riza he knew at all, or did it? It was exactly those possibilities that kept him up the night before, thinking about the one woman who was almost an enigma to him. After all this time, he didn't know what his First Lieutenant was truly capable of except for shooting really well, filling out paperwork, and covering his ass. She was his friend and co-worker, not his enemy, but suddenly she was all three. In all his political machinations, Riza as his enemy was a concept he had trouble grasping. Roy had unwittingly set himself up for a surprise assault and he knew it. He wouldn't cave though, he thought as crawled into the office early that morning to rest and prepare himself for the impending battle. His will was stronger than hers, he knew that. He'd dealt with tougher matters than his promised policy over skirts for female officers if and when he became Fuhrer. This was nothing but office politics among friends, right? A little, harmless war he was sure to win, right? Besides, what power could one flimsy garment possess?

Colonel Mustang was blissfully unaware of another presence as he napped on while Riza Hawkeye stepped into his office, a deep frown marring her pink-tinted lips. So Fuery was right, and the dark-haired man before her was out like a light. Her frown turned into a smirk as she gripped the papers. She cleared her voice, loudly, hoping it would wake him, but Roy only snored on. Riza's anger was quickly rising, her heel tapping on the hard floor. If this were any other day, she would have nudged him awake by now; but as she quickly reminded herself, this wasn't a normal day of office antics. This was war, one she intended to win at all costs. Her foot kicked the door hard and it slammed shut with a force that shook the walls. Roy instantly jumped at the sound, his dark eyes wide-awake and glaring around for the source of the disturbance in his slumber. Unfortunately his tilted chair jumped too, sliding out from under him as he fell on the floor before he even knew she was in the room. Riza sighed, not surprised in the least by the groaning coming from behind the desk. "Good Morning, sir," she said lightly while walking around the right hand side.

Roy paled, recognizing her voice as he closed his eyes, "Lieutenant Hawkeye? For a moment I thought it was Major Armstrong knocking down my door."

"You wish," she said as she put the papers down, her hip cocked to the side. "I'm sure dealing with the Major would be more delightful to you than these new papers."

The Colonel was sprawled on the floor, his head against the wall as his legs were curled up awkwardly under the desk. His eyes were also tightly shut. He also knew from the closeness of her voice that he really, really, didn't want to look up at her right now. After a silent moment, a pointed shoe kicked him in the side, making him yelp and finally open his eyes. "You can't stay down there all day, sir."

As his dark eyes focused on Riza Hawkeye, he suddenly wished he could. His jaw dropped open of its own accord and his mind went completely blank, unprepared as his opponent loomed over him, tapping her black heels on the floor. From his vantage point, he could very clearly see the tops of her stockings, the metal ends of black lace garters, and a slight bit of flesh, the rest hidden by the blue wool of her short, but not immodestly short, skirt. He'd seen less fabric on more women, but something about what she didn't reveal shot straight from his mind into his loins. Before he could think to say something, her foot kicked his side again, propelling reality into his head as he started to get up. Turning away from her, he found his chair, righting it as he tried to clear his head. This was wholly unexpected from his subordinate, as he took his seat, wide-awake now. Before Roy knew it, a pen was shoved into his hand as she motioned to the brand new stack of papers on his desk. "These need to be authorized by the end of the day, sir, and the Elrics should be here this morning to check in before their trip to Rizembool," Riza said as she shuffled the other items around on his usually messy desk, slightly bent over as she reached for a set of loose paper clips.

Staring was hard to avoid for the Colonel as her skirt noticeably rose up, noting the lines down the back of her stockings that accentuated the shape of her legs. She was taller than he thought, and paler, which seemed to suit her more. Her words almost went right over his head, and it took most of his control not to touch the delicate material covering her limbs and skin underneath. It was only when she moved away that he finally pulled his wandering wanton thoughts back together enough to remember what she had said, "Um, sure, I'll get right on top of it . . ."

Wincing at the unintentional innuendo, Roy quickly fixated his attention on the page in front of him. He heard Riza stop and turn around in front of his desk as if she expected something from him. What did she want? An acknowledgement of their wager? An opening move? Knowing he had to look up at her eventually, his eyes slowly drifted up. For some reason, her gun belt and shoulder harness stuck out more so than usual, along with her figure, making it very hard to find where to look without revealing too many of his thoughts. Roy settled for looking at the Lieutenant's mouth, which was partially curled back into a smile that could quickly turn into a smirk. She was far too pleased with herself, and he was far too disappointed with himself. Every moment he spent looking at her felt like caving in just that much more. The Colonel's brow furrowed and he looked back down at the paper before him, "Was there anything else, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir, just that you look tired," Riza said as he bit back a groan, "I hope today isn't too hard on you . . . sir."

Roy was suddenly thankful he wasn't the only one with a mildly dirty mind, "Thank you, Lieutenant, I'm sure it'll go a lot easier with you around."

Somehow, a slight sarcastic bitterness entered his voice, bringing a frown to the blonde's lips. Was he baiting her for an argument? Did he really mean it? Or was he teasing her? Riza didn't know, but it didn't lessen her anger at his attitude, her brown eyes boring into him, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uhhh," The Colonel fumbled for an answer, the fury in her brown eyes making him second-guess his gut feeling. His mind drew blanks, something about the look on her face and the mounting tension in her crossed arms making him feel awkward around her. It was very odd of a reaction for him since he was usually very good around women. The skirt wasn't helping either as his eyes kept drifting downwards on their own. Thinking fast, Roy went with his best policy when dealing with angry females, denial. "Absolutely nothing, Lieutenant, have a nice day."

Her anger only grew at his answer, fingers itching to grab a gun and pull the trigger. Deny, deny, deny. All he did when she caught him was deny until she could prove him wrong. He meant something with what he said or else he wouldn't have said it, and it was getting to her. Roy usually didn't get to her this badly, but ever since the day before . . . Riza Hawkeye's cool temper was running painfully short. "Fine . . . sir," she ground out between her teeth, forcing herself to remain neutral. "I'm sure we'll talk more later, right?"

"Right . . . Lieutenant," he said, not mistaking her meaning for anything else. The tension in the air was thick, the weight of it making his eyes take another look over her figure. Her legs kept making his mind go blank as much as the anger in her eyes. Damn, why couldn't he think today around her? But he could think, and only of one thing that kept going through his head as she turned around and went for the door. All he could think about was simply how nice she looked. She seemed so much more mature, and professional, even if it was impractical as all hell on a battlefield. He couldn't figure out how he hadn't noticed her before. For a slight moment, Roy forgot that this was war. If there weren't an argument between them, he probably would have made an inappropriate advance by now; the image of what he'd seen under that short skirt flashing before his eyes. For that daring alone, she deserved a compliment, one already half out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Riza?" Roy said as she turned and looked at him, something widening in her brown eyes as his mouth moved on its own, "You look . . ."

"Yes?"

Reality sunk in as he heard the other men laughing from the other side of the door, Havoc's voice in particular. Suddenly, he felt like a chicken, like he was giving up just by complimenting her. Riza had started the bet. She accepted his unintentional insult and turned it into this. And as much as he might like her to win . . . Roy's resolve hardened. It was for the good of the military, and for the good of himself. That was comfort enough, right? "You look nice today. You should wear miniskirts more often," he said as he hunched over the papers, pretending to work on them, "I'm sure the other female officers will look just as good in something more feminine."

"So . . . you're not distracted?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"No, just enjoying the view, Lieutenant," he said lecherously, "But not that much, I still think mini-skirts would be in the best interests for all female officers, especially since the look suits you so well."

He didn't need to see the reaction smeared across her face to know that he'd hit deep. Surely she'd finally kill him now right? Instead he heard her heels on the floor, and he looked up, excepting to see the face of death coming towards him. Instead, Roy watched Riza Hawkeye's rear swing back and forth with intent as she strode out of the office, stopping only to grab a box of ammunition he knew she kept in her desk. She was gone before anyone could stop her, catching his eyes on hers when she turned in the doorway out into the hall. Her glare was as hard and as cold as stone in winter, sending a chill down his spine along with regret. He shouldn't have done that. The door slammed shut with a thunderous bang, and all the men jumped. With a long groan, Colonel Mustang let go of his composure and thumped his head on his desk, "I'm so dead."

* * *

After an hour, Riza came back, much more relieved it seemed, and without her box of bullets. She had felt good at the shooting range as she put all of that ammo to use. The technicians were probably still wincing though. Most of the shots ended up in the crotch of the human-shaped targets when she normally went for head and chest shots. She stared at the Colonel now and then through the open door to his office, her eyes promising much retribution . . . she just hadn't come up with a plan yet. Like he'd change his mind at all just because she wanted him to. He was still a man after all, and she was still angrier than a pissed-off cat. She sighed, putting down her pen a moment to stretch her hand before it cramped from writing. They were all being well behaved today, including Roy, who at least seemed interested in his work every time she glanced in his direction. Maybe he was just avoiding her look too. She had the rest of the day to figure out how to change his mind; maybe it would come to her eventually.

Just as she was about to get back to work, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes stepped in from the hallway with the Elric brothers not far behind him. Silently, Riza was grateful, at least until she noticed the officer's eyes falling on her exposed and crossed legs, like everyone else's had since she came in that morning. She might have been offended if he wasn't already happily married. Maes gaped, apparently fumbling for words as she frowned before finally saying, "Good morning to you too, he's in his office."

"Ah, right, morning, um, Riza-um, Lieutenant," he muttered before almost running into the Colonel's office and closing the door. At least there was one bright side to Maes's quick retreat; he didn't whip out any photos. She turned towards the Elrics, smiling again as she saw the grin on Edward's face, "Good morning, I hope you're both ready for your trip back to Rizembool."

"Yes, ma'am," Al's hollow voice rang through the armor as his brother nodded, the grin still stuck. Riza tilted her head curiously, wondering what the young man was thinking. Obviously it wasn't the same as the other men as his eyes only glanced once at the skirt and her legs. If anything, he seemed distracted. But . . . it still annoyed her. "Something you're particularly happy about this morning, FullMetal?" she asked, her eyebrows arching upwards.

"Nothing," he answered far too quickly, "Just going to be a good day."

"He's happy because he got to use the phone without Lieutenant Colonel Hughes knowing it. I distracted him," Al added in a low voice as Ed gawked at him in shock then started shaking the living armor as he cried out under the torment, "But, brother! You never said not to tell her!"

Riza laughed softly, hiding her amusement behind her hand until Al got a handle on his flailing older brother before he dented his metal body. "But you almost told her it was Winry I was calling, you're so dense sometimes!" Edward whispered in a voice that was too desperate to be quiet and too soft to be overheard by anyone but her.

"Sorry, brother . . . but it's just Winry, and you kind of just mentioned it yourself . . ." Alphonse said as the alchemist sagged with a groan of realization. Not laughing anymore, but still amused, she smiled while remembering what Private Scieszka had told her earlier. They were growing up too fast, Edward the most it seemed. "It's alright, I won't mention it to anyone," Riza said while pointing to the phone on her desk, "Next time, you can use mine, I'm far less nosy than the Lieutenant Colonel."

Edward looked grateful, grinning again as he shoved his hands in his pockets. She blinked, still wondering about the expression on the young alchemist's face. At least he wasn't as lecherous as the rest of the men on staff who were twice his age and two-times as childish. Yet, there was still something in the older Elric's eyes that made her suspicious. "Thinking of something or someone, Ed?" she asked curiously as he hopped up to sit on her desk while Al took a seat next to the office door.

"Just that I'll be richer by the end of the day," Ed said as his grin got even funnier, "I almost feel sorry for that bast-err, Mustang, and the poor taste of the guys betting for him to win."

Riza smiled a moment, touched, until she remembered who she talking to. "You boys shouldn't be gambling. You're lucky I haven't taken it upon myself to punish whoever let you two in on it," she said with a disapproving frown, shifting around the stack of papers on her desk before she added with a slight smile, "At least you chose the right side."

"You do look nice today, Miss Hawkeye, for a girl," Al added as she turned in her chair to look at him. That was about the first compliment all day that she had gotten that wasn't accompanied by roving eyes. Coming from Alphonse only made it seem more honest and genuine. The small smile on Riza's face lit up, making her feel more confident, "Thank you, Al, that was sweet of you to say."

If the suit of armor could have smiled back, or blushed, it probably would, but Al just nodded his head instead. There was a snicker of laughter from across the office that sounded like Havoc, only to be choked back as soon as Riza's head snapped in his direction. A slight blush spread over Jean's face, telling the Lieutenant all she needed to know as her brown eyes rolled upwards. It was no wonder the Second Lieutenant couldn't keep a girl if he kept snickering like that when he heard a truthful compliment to a lady. To the side of her, Edward smirked too, "You know he bet the most against you aside from running the pool, right?"

"That doesn't surprise me," Riza said as she went back to filling out a form, "His belief in Roy is bigger than Roy's own ego."

"Think he'll try something to mess you up?"

"No, this is between me and the Colonel. He stuck his foot in his mouth, I'm just making sure it's thoroughly lodged there so he won't forget it when I help him remove it," she muttered and started checking boxes on the page. Ed laughed and pulled out his pocket watch, looking at the time. He quickly flipped it closed and shoved it into his pants pocket. "They are taking a while, he always does this, I bet you never have to wait for him," he muttered glancing at the door, "If we're late for that train . . ."

"I'll make sure you guys leave on time, stop worrying. Have I ever let anyone in this department down?" she smiled, glancing at the door herself.

"Not yet," Ed said, "But there's a first time for everything."

On that point, the young alchemist was right.

* * *

"I'm so dead," Roy said again as his friend pulled up a chair across from him. "If I try to touch her, she'll kill me, if I even look at her, she'll kill me, if I say one more thing that's either perverted or close to being offensive, she'll kill me. I can't think straight, can't react, and I sure as hell can't resist for very much longer. Look at me, I'm doing work just so I don't have to face her again today, but I can't keep it up, what the hell am I supposed to do? I can't let the men down by letting her win, but . . . damned if she isn't proving her point, what can I do?"

To Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, watching Colonel Mustang crack because of a woman was very entertaining in and of itself, even more so than watching his co-workers crack as he showed off his little Elysia's pictures. And to think it was all because of Riza Hawkeye in a short skirt. He knew it would happen one day when Roy finally opened his goddamned eyes, he just didn't think it would be today or be happening so quickly. He also didn't think she would have pulled out that many stops in regards to her choice of apparel and grooming. Even married, Maes had been tempted to look and found it hard to resist looking away. But it amused him more that Roy was taking it so hard, and even more amusing was that he was being asked for advice after he'd bet against the Colonel, who was obviously desperate. This was a most advantageous position to be in during a war, right in the middle with the scales resting firmly in his hands; but he could just as easily be caught in the crossfire too.

If he won, he could get his little girl a new doll and his wife a set of earrings he knew she would love. He had so many other reasons to tell Roy to cave too, if only for his own good. He'd known for a while why Riza did what she did for her Colonel's career, quietly and thanklessly, and it wasn't until recently that his friend actually noticed it. But Roy always was an arrogant bastard no matter how much someone cared for him. If he knew of Riza's silent guardianship, the Colonel never let it show or let on about returning her feelings, even if they gave off more tension around each other then an armory of loaded guns. The two of them were like two porcupines in love, too afraid of themselves and each other to even touch. They just needed a nudge in the right direction . . . but maybe this bet was more like a hammer to the head. Maes wanted so badly to tell Roy what he needed to hear about the Lieutenant, but couldn't, the glare of quiet desperation on the Colonel's face enough indication that now might not be the time. "She's still Riza, Roy, just in a skirt and heels," Maes pointed it, the amused grin slipping onto his face, "Just . . . pull it together and act normal."

"Pull it together? Your sage advice to me as a man that deals with a beautiful wife everyday is to pull it together?" Roy muttered, not liking what he was hearing. "She may be just a woman in a skirt, but she's also packing two guns and an agenda that she will ask me about before the end of the day, and I have to say yes, I want to ogle you and every other female officer on a daily basis by making you wear skirts when I become Fuhrer just because I promised a bunch of lonely officers I'd do just that," he paused, eyebrows arched and pressed together as he looked at Maes, "Or I give in."

"Is giving in so bad?" the Lieutenant Colonel offered as he adjusted his glasses, "I don't know about you, but Gracia would kill me if every woman that walked into my office every day dressed like that and called me sir."

"Maybe it just takes getting use to. It wouldn't so shocking if we were all used to seeing legs and skin around here rather than blue upon blue," Roy said with a grin. "This is about the most androgynously dressed military in creation. We are wearing half-skirts over our pants to begin with."

"You avoided my question."

"No, I side-stepped it," the dark-haired man said as he tilted back in his chair. "I can't give in to her, it's not an option. It'll make me look weak to the men, even if the women will hate me; but most of them do anyway."

"So you'd rather make your First Lieutenant hate you along with the rest of the sisterhood than lose face? Is not giving in really that important?" Maes asked pointedly, knowing that while Riza may never hate Roy completely, she'd definitely not care for him any more. It was a bad move to make, one that slowly dawned on Roy as he suddenly looked more serious. The Colonel shrugged then sighed, back to square one in the argument in his head, "It's not that much of a life or death choice is it?"

"In the scheme of things, it's a bigger question of if you become Fuhrer or not. Bradley could outlive us all and make this whole thing moot."

"Then why is it such a big deal? I know it's a personal matter to Riza but . . ." Roy said then sighed, rubbing the side of his head. "I don't know what to think, it's too personal for public debate, but now too public for us to settle it privately. I wish we could just call it off."

"I should have kept my mouth shut, huh?" Maes asked with a grin, "Maybe you should just try to talk to her, over lunch or something, with a table between you both so you're not distracted."

"No, if you didn't put it into the rumor mill, Havoc would have. I just didn't think the betting pool would get this big," the Colonel said before letting the suggestion sink in. He could talk to her, maybe, in private, without sticking his foot in his mouth again, maybe. It did seem awfully like fraternizing with the enemy though, nay, almost like a date with the enemy. He didn't like that idea as he glared at Hughes, "I don't think she'd listen if I asked her to call it off, lunch or no."

Maes shrugged, running out of advice without spilling the beans. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, Roy needed a stronger nudge than Riza. "She's your subordinate, but she's also your friend as much as I am. She would listen if you ordered her to, besides, she's also a woman, I thought you handled them well."

"This is Riza we're talking about, how many time do I have to point it out? She's not just some woman. If there's one female alive that is immune to my charm, it's her, and even then . . ." Roy started before glancing down at his desk, "I don't want to charm her even if I could, it feels wrong to put the moves on her just to win an argument."

"Then there's always succumbing, but it takes a strong man to admit defeat."

"I'm not defeated by her, not yet."

"Then if I may suggest again, just talk to her. Even wars have parleys; besides, you may even learn more about your enemy."

"Thanks Maes, even if I know you're betting against me," Roy said with a smirk as Lieutenant Colonel Hughes stood up. No, he wasn't about to let that tiny mutiny go unnoticed or eventually unpunished. The door opened just as they were finishing, Riza stepping into the room, a fresh stack of forms in her hands. Amused, Maes noticed as the Colonel's dark eyes immediately glued onto the First Lieutenant's figure and her legs. "Um, sir?" she asked, "I hate to interrupt, but you wanted to see FullMetal before he left for Rizembool?"

Roy's face went blank a moment before he blinked, "Oh, um, right, send him in."

"I'm afraid I can't, sir."

"Why not?"

"He already left for the station with Alphonse. Havoc is escorting them there now," Riza said, schooling a vacant look on her face to hide her own amusement. So it was a vicious idea she had while waiting with Edward for the Colonel to finish talking with Hughes, to play dumb like his usual dates if only to get his goat. As a look of annoyance spread over Roy's face, she was sure it was working. Only got harder to keep his expression from turning into a raging inferno of anger as Maes snickered, trying to hide it behind a gloved hand. "Lieutenant, if the kids are gone than why are we having this discussion now instead of before they left?" Mustang asked as one eyebrow twitched at her, obviously getting angry, "You knew I wanted to talk to FullMetal before his leave, why didn't you interrupt me earlier?"

With a slow walk, Riza approached the desk, gently depositing the papers on the surface as she bent over slightly. Roy's eyes naturally followed the curves of her body underneath all that dark cloth, making him sink lower in the chair as she reached across the desk to grab his finished work. She looked at the Colonel, her face still vapid and her voice guilelessly devoid of intelligence, even if her brown eyes sparkled with mirth, "Because, sir, you didn't tell me to tell you."

She turned and walked out the door, and Roy's mouth dropped open once she wasn't looking, his eyes back on her legs. Once she was gone, Maes chuckled harder from his spot across the room, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He had to hand it to her. That was cleverer than he thought, and more effective on Roy, who looked like he just got slapped. She had the type of woman the Colonel dated down to a science, and made a half-decent actress. "Did that sound like insubordination to you?" Mustang asked as the shock wore off, "Or more like contempt?"

"Actually, it sounded more like victory. Maybe you should cave, she's got you beat," Maes said as he chuckled more, getting a glare from Roy, "She is proving to be one heck of a distraction, you have to admit."

"No kidding, you haven't reached for your photos once."

"I didn't know you were that interested in them! I just got a new roll developed of summer by the lake! Elysia looks so cute playing by the lake, and with the fish, and-."

"Maes . . ." there was a slight touch of angry annoyance in the Colonel's voice.

"Right, you're obviously whipped enough as it is."

"Maes . . ." the level of anger slowly rose in Roy's voice until it outdid his annoyance, along with a look that promised certain fiery death in his glare. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes took that as a good sign to retreat, waving as he quickly exited the office. But before he left completely, there was just one thing he had to mention as he stuck his head back through the office door, "You know, sometimes it is more interesting to let the fairer sex win. You might actually like it once you try it."

A flurry of white paper greeted Maes's last bit of advice as Roy flung the pages at him. Hughes slammed the door, avoiding the salvo completely. Alone again, the Colonel groaned at the mess his office had become, along with the rest of his day. He wasn't whipped, was he? For a moment, resentment entered his mind at Riza's mothering of his career, a nagging fear that he wasn't in control of his own destiny anymore. Ok, maybe it wasn't that bad. He was grateful for when she did save his bacon. Maybe he wasn't as thankful to her face as he should have been, but he was still in control of his own life, right? Roy didn't like being this introspective. It always seemed to bring up bad memories. He didn't dare mention his past involvement in the Ishbal War to anyone in Central, not even to Riza. They needed to believe in someone without blood on their hands, someone who wasn't the real him. Even Roy couldn't bear the real him sometimes, the shame too great along with the memories. The men of his unit all stuck by him, but would they still be there if they knew the truth? He was a murderous dog of the state just like the other alchemy-wielding mutts this place churned out. But would his men still love him despite it?

In his darkest moments, Roy could feel his mask of perfected arrogance and egotism slip. This was one of them. A look of fear that he'd worked so hard to cover slid over his eyes for the briefest of seconds. No, none of them would ever know this side of him, not until he was sure they wouldn't abandon him at the first test of loyalty. His eyes closed, then slowly opened, the annoyed look coming back as the mask went in place again. Perhaps this was Riza's test, to see if she'd still follow him even if she didn't agree with him. Perhaps this was his test as well, to see if he could actually resist a woman in a short skirt. He did have a penchant for torturing himself some times; maybe this was just another case. With a groan, Roy banged his head on his desk, trying to focus the many tangents into one coherent line of action. He needed to do something to nip this game before it went too far. Maybe the Lieutenant Colonel was right. He did need to talk to her, eventually. It could be his way out if he could control himself. Inhaling deeply, Roy felt a little more confident about what he would do: apologize, cancel the bet like a man, and be her friend again, all without flirting, staring at her legs, sticking his foot in his mouth, or losing his head. "I can do this . . ." he muttered to himself until Riza opened the door again, nearly stepping on the papers at her feet.

"Sir . . ." she said tensely, glaring at him for the mess, "Major Armstrong to see you. I'll give you a minute."

His eyes were stuck between staring at her legs and the pissed off look in her eyes until she finally turned away and walked out again. As soon as she was gone, Roy knew it was one thing talk a good plan, and another to put it into action.

* * *

After spending the rest of the morning listening to Major Armstrong give his report on the situation in the remains of Ishbal, Roy was never so glad to dismiss him as the noon bell rung. It was lunchtime. The Colonel finished signing a few forms once the too tall and too muscular officer was gone, hurrying out of his office in the hopes to catch Riza before she left for lunch as well. What he found instead were empty desks except for Breda, who looked confused to see him in such a hurry. "Where's the First Lieutenant? And why hasn't anyone returned these yet?" he asked as he grabbed a pile of books left on one of the filing cabinets to cover his question on the whereabouts of his second in command.

"Lunch, after brushing off Major Armstrong," he said as Roy tried not to choke on the news. Something seemed to snap in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he couldn't place a finger on, but knew he didn't like it. Before revealing too much to Heymans, the Colonel looked at him blankly, "Right, why would she need to brush off the Major, anyway?"

"You know the Major and women. His luck is almost as good as yours. He was complimenting Riza and stuff before she left, even asked her to lunch and kissed her hand. She was quite besotted, but turned him down, saying it would be inappropriate," Breda said, watching closely at the dark-haired officer's reaction. For a moment, there was a flash of fire in Roy's dark eyes and Heymans had to hold down his grin. Maybe the little lie was too much. Telling him that Hawkeye had liked Armstrong's flirting was a bit much; when in reality she went white as a sheet when asked out to lunch. Roy didn't know that though. And for his efforts, it looked very much like his superior was cracking, despite the look of disgust. "Thank you, Breda, I'm sure I needed to know that much about Armstrong's love life," the Colonel said sarcastically, his face somewhere between green and red, maybe puce, "I think I'll hit the lavatories before lunch and the library. Where is she now?"

"Probably out on the steps eating since it's a good day. She brought a lunch today."

"Thank you, and make sure to get some files I requested from Investigations. Hughes knows which ones I needed," Roy said as the bitterness in his voice that made Breda almost smile. But that might be giving away his hand. The Colonel stopped paying attention as he went for the door, ignoring the officer as he called after, "Yes, sir, have a good lunch."

As Mustang left, Breda's grin widened, twirling in his chair in triumph. It looked like he was winning his bet about Roy and Riza being in love after all. Now if he had proof before the end of the day, Havoc would owe him a whole pile of money.

* * *

To Be Continued  



	2. A Skirt By Any Other Name, Cont

* * *

Storming down the hall after leaving the office, Colonel Roy Mustang was a different man, glaring straight ahead as if he could burn whoever lay in his path alive with just a glance. Ever since he listened to Breda's little piece of office gossip, he couldn't get the nasty image from his head no matter how hard he tried. It only served to feed his anger. Armstrong flirting with Riza, his Riza. Wait, since when did she become his Riza? The possessiveness of that thought didn't strike him as odd, and neither did his mounting anger. She was one of his officers, she was his. How could he just-? Before he knew it, Roy had run up the back stairwell of Headquarters to the roof. Alone, the Flame Alchemist let out a long frustrated roar, scaring away the pigeons roosting there. It was followed by a long stream of curses as he dropped the books tucked under his arm, nearly throwing them away. His fingers clicked every few seconds in his anger, letting off a fireball that flew up with a small poof. Somehow venting the fire felt good, as if it was steam rather than flames he was letting off. Eventually, he stopped completely, sliding down against the door back into the building. In his exhaustion, a realization settled into Roy as his raging emotions simmered down to a low boil. He was acting jealous. "Fucking shit," he scowled, squinting his eyes shut and covering them with his hands, "I am jealous." 

But why would he be jealous of someone else flirting with Riza Hawkeye, his First Lieutenant?

That was one question Roy didn't want to know the answer to. He started to pick himself up. He couldn't let this get to him now, maybe after today, when he didn't have to win a bet against her. Groaning, he picked up the books and went back down the stairs. He could stick to the plan, talk to her, and maybe smooth everything over, then worry about why he was jealous later. This was all given that the plan didn't blow up his in his face either. Walking across the lobby, Roy spotted Maes waving at him, but he didn't stop except to throw him a glare. Later, much later, he might forgive the Lieutenant Colonel for shoving this piece of advice he was taking into his hands, but not now.

The sunlight was bright as Roy walked out into the midday sun of late summer. The steps were covered in a sea of blue uniforms, some going up and down, in and out of the building; but most of them were lounging on the stonework with food containers in all shapes and sizes. The end of the stifling heat always seemed to inspire most of the military to eat outdoors. With nowhere else to go besides the mess hall with the standard issue food, the steps ended up being the place to eat. Spotting the Lieutenant wasn't hard as her legs were the only bare ones in the crowd. The many glances towards her from the other officers were also a dead giveaway. She sat perched on the base of one the stone statues flanking the steps, one foot tucked demurely behind the other with her high-heeled shoes off and fallen to the ground. He started to walk towards her, ducking around the people busy eating or talking.

She didn't notice him at all, idly munching on a cold turkey sandwich between handfuls of miniature pretzels packaged in the small tins she used to carry her food. Riza never did like the cafeteria food except for drinks, probably because she could make her own lunch better than they could if she had the time. It also felt good to be outside when the weather was nice, and not cramped up in the office. Her stocking feet kicked at the stone behind her heels, wincing as one of the bruises on her sole flared in pain. It also felt good to get out of those damned shoes. "I'm never wearing heels to work again, along with this skirt," Riza muttered to herself, unaware of the shadow falling across her.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Lieutenant," said a voice from over her shoulder as she jumped, nearly losing her seat on the stone.

"Sir! Ummmm . . . what are you doing here?" she asked, startled and nervous while swallowing hard on the lump of sandwich in her throat. Roy grinned at her reaction, part of him enjoying the shade of red on her face. Before he realized what he was doing, he crouched down next to her, eyeing the small pile of food and metal containers between them to avoid looking at her, "I was using my break to head over to the Second Branch Library to drop off some books."

"Ummm, did you want me to do that for you, sir?" Riza asked as she stared at him, confused, as he seemed more interested in her lunch than in their conversation, "Or were you just hungry?"

Roy looked up to see a small smirk on her face, making him grin in return even if he suddenly felt foolish. "No, it's alright, I don't feel too hungry right now, just needed a walk outside for a little."

The smirk turned into a smile on her lips, as he couldn't help looking into her brown eyes. He always did like the color of them, like milk chocolate with flecks of gold. Suddenly, he found himself smiling too much. Riza looked away, and he remembered again why he was there all along, "If you're done eating, there's a set new books that Scieszka asked me to pick up and bring to her in the First Branch, I . . . would appreciate the help."

Roy stood back up, trying not to curse himself for making it a request and not an order. He had to be going soft, that was it. And yet, Riza didn't seem to notice as she nodded, starting to pack up what little was left of her lunch, "Of course, sir, just give me a moment."

Quickly, the metal tins and the bag they came in were tucked into the small black bag that she usually carried to and from the office. She dropped off the statue's base and slipped on her shoes, bending over to adjust them while precariously balanced steadily on one heel. Roy watched with an amused grin. He always did like watching women move like that to fix their shoes, the odd balancing act so seemingly graceful and ungainly at the same time. It had to be a miracle of feminine creation that they moved unconsciously like that. Even in action, Roy remembered Hawkeye being just as graceful with her guns, even if it was more a visceral than lyrical grace. He caught himself on that last thought, blinking rapidly to clear the tangent from his head. Now was not the time to lose his focus as he rubbed one of his eyes with the back of his hand. Riza glanced back, a little confused when he didn't move now that she was ready, "Sir?"

"Right, Second Branch Library," he muttered, hurrying down the steps while she filed in behind him. She always did manage to keep the perfect distance of two paces away from him whenever they walked together, something that never struck him as odd or bothering before. But as they crossed the courtyard in front of Headquarters and made their way onto the sidewalks of Central, the formalness was getting to him. And she was being silent as well. "Lieutenant," he started to say before deciding to drop decorum all together, "Riza, we're out of the office now, you don't have to walk that far away from me. I don't bite and am not contagious."

"Sorry, sir," she said as he heard her heels pick up the pace a little. Roy glanced over to see her standing next to his shoulder, her coat flapping open behind her in the breeze as the automobiles passed them. It was hard not to notice the differences in her uniform this close, which once again reminded of why he invited her along in the first place. Why did the bet keep slipping from his mind now after it plagued him all night and all morning? The dark haired man looked away before he could let his eyes linger on her too long, admitting to something else that was getting to him, "You also don't have to call me sir for now, I have a name too."

"Right . . . Roy," Riza said, standing a little taller beside him, probably thanks to the heels. "If I may ask . . . and not to seem ungrateful, but is there a reason you're interrupting my lunch with this task? I was under the impression you didn't like my company today."

"Whatever gave you that idea? Just because there's a wager going on between us doesn't mean we can't speak," he said with his usual smirk, grateful for the opening, "And if you're still famished, I know a café not far from here you might like."

"Um, no thank you, I was finishing when you showed up, but that doesn't answer my question. Given that the fulfillment of the wager, being that you must admit to giving up your miniskirt policy, dictates a discussion between us, it would have been in your advantage to, well, avoid me for the rest of the day," Riza said with a smirk of her own, "Not that such a thing is entirely possible, you've never been able to avoid me for long."

She had a point there. When she had fresh sheets of forms ready to be signed, Riza Hawkeye was entirely unavoidable. Clearing his throat to suppress a chuckle, Roy said, "Even in battles there is a necessity to parley with the enemy on occasion, so, perhaps, we can come to a conclusion of this whole fiasco before it interrupts the entire chain of command."

"A conclusion? Does that mean you'll freely give up the miniskirt policy if you become Fuhrer?" she asked. It was worth shot. He was acting weird as it was, and the signs of chinks in his armor were clear this morning in his stares. It was so typical of him to go soft over women and clothing, a fact she'd been banking on when she made the bet. But, maybe she was wrong. His grin noticeably lessened, "Sorry to disappoint you, but, I haven't been entirely convinced yet that it's in the interest of the department to not review dress codes if and when I take office."

His answer brought a snort of laughter from Riza, "If and when are big maybes, Colonel. Becoming Fuhrer is a big ambition as well as a great responsibility, one most of Central already knows you wish to achieve, along with your reputation. Maybe that's why you haven't gained any promotions recently."

"Last I checked, I wasn't due to be eligible for the review board for a few more months," Roy said, trying not to scowl. He didn't like the direction this was going at all. She didn't need to subtly remind him why he was doing all this in the first place, and how he was failing at it little by little. And what did she mean by his reputation anyway? Her smile brightened a moment as he felt something clench in his chest, suddenly nervous at the look on her face, "You were eligible as of two months ago."

"Doesn't mean anything."

"Well, it's not like your antics are helping any to advance your career."

"All the more reason we should just cancel this bet," Roy blurted out, finally, even if it was said far too quickly. He heard Riza's heels stop clicking on the stone sidewalk, which made him stop as well, turning towards her. When the shock melted away, there was defiance in her brown eyes, a fire he didn't see too often in her outside of combat. Just that look made his reasons die in his throat. Apparently, it mattered more to her than he thought, but why? It was just some stupid bet over a hypothetical question, wasn't it? Maybe he could still convince her though. His words died again as the fire in her eyes turned into mischief, a smug grin spreading over her face, "What's the matter? Worried I might win?"

Roy's dark eyes hardened, definitely not pleased with the way the conversation was going, "You haven't been able to change my mind yet."

"The day isn't over yet," Riza said as she started to walk past him, holding her head a little higher in the air. There was something about the way she moved that calmed his anger, his eyes following her before his feet caught up. As the crossed the street, he noticed another man passing them. From the turning of the guy's head, the Colonel could tell that he was looking at more than Hawkeye's face. Something clenched in his heart again, a small flare of jealousy that he quickly smothered before it drove him irate like before. Jealousy. It was almost a foreign word to him. He'd never been jealous over a woman before, least of all the attention she garnered from other men. And as she smiled back at the stranger, turning to follow him with her eyes, Roy realized he'd never been jealous of another man either. For some odd reason, he wished Riza had smiled at him like that, her eyes lighting up with thinly veiled interest. Now why would he want her to do that? Another mystery to another thought he didn't want to explore, least of all today.

Walking backwards in front of the Colonel, the Lieutenant caught Mustang's glare at her. There was something in his eyes that made her smile falter into curious surprise, hollowness in the dark depths tinged with fire. Why in the world would he be looking at her like that? Only it wasn't as if he was looking at her, but through her, too caught up in his head to realize he'd been staring. It made her move closer in front of him, carefully watching her steps while coyly tucking her hands behind her back. He didn't even notice, still staring at where she was. "Is something wrong, sir?" She asked, her curiosity invading her voice.

As soon as Roy's eyes focused, he noticed where she had moved and flinched, embarrassment written all over the slight blush in his cheeks. It made her grin. He was showing the cracks in his armor again, until he smirked back at her. "Nothing, Lieutenant," he said as the smirk widened into a grin, "But do keep the fraternization to a minimum until we're off-duty."

"I wasn't fraternizing, I was smiling. I doubt it's against the rules to be polite," she said with her own matching grin, "Besides, it isn't against the rules to fraternize either with the general public or even other officers, just with the non-commissioned ones."

Roy blinked, "Really? How do you know?"

"It was in the handbook from basic officer training. I'm surprised you didn't memorize it," Riza explained as she turned around again, dropping back to walk by his side. Walking next to him, she had no idea of the can of worms she had just unleashed, probably because he was staring ahead and not at her as his thoughts flew behind his eyes. How could he miss that little bit of information? No wonder there were some teams of state alchemists in the field that were married. He was sure he knew a few couples in Headquarters as well, even if they kept it under wraps. It was making sense now. So . . . did that mean suddenly all the women that worked around him were up for grabs? No wonder Havoc flirted so much with the female officers but avoided Scieszka, she was non-commissioned and still a Private. No wonder Armstrong tried to ask Riza to lunch too. Another pang of jealousy flared in his heart at that thought, and he knew he was surely losing it. Roy had to know, if only for the sake of his sanity, "If that's so, then why didn't you take up Major Armstrong's invitation to lunch? It would have gotten you out of library book detail."

Riza laughed, grinning as she glanced over her shoulder at him before laughing harder. Something in what he said was obviously hilarious to her, a part he didn't get, and it confused the hell out of him, "What?"

"Roy, really, are we talking about the same man here? What would make you think I'd accept a lunch invitation from 'Armstrong' of all people? He's so . . ." Riza said once her fit of laughter was over before stopping, her face scrunched up into a look of distaste.

"Muscular?" Roy offered, suppressing a smirk, "Secure in his manhood?"

"Not my choice in men, and embarrassing, even if he is better at his job sometimes than you," Riza grinned at him as she answered, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she turned his questioning around. "Really though, why should it be any concern of yours on whom I have lunch with?"

"It isn't," he lied through his teeth, thankfully keeping the jealousy nipping at him out of the expression on his face, "I was merely curious after Breda brought it up."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing you don't already know."

"What's that suppose to mean? That's not an answer at all," Riza asked, glaring as he was obviously avoiding the question, "What am I going to do? Shoot him for spreading office gossip?"

Roy snorted in laughter, "I wouldn't put it past you. You always did have a knack for going for your guns first when it came to office politics."

"And you always had a knack for starting fires instead of trying diplomatic solutions," she retorted, pointedly ignoring looking at him, "I've gotten very good at putting them out for you."

"Then how about instead of arguing, and prolonging this fight, we come to one of your diplomatic solutions of the matter between us, eh?" Roy offered, thankfully bringing back up want he wanted to talk about before they digressed any longer. It wasn't like her to wander off subjects this long, always possessing a dogged determination to get her point across, which made the whole of the discussion that much more unsettling to him. For once, Roy felt like he was nagging her, and not vice versa. Riza looked at him, the fire back in her eyes, before staring ahead again. "No, I won't let you win so easily, as you said, the matter is between us, and it will not be me to resolve it until I've had the chance to change your mind. I mean really, you've been almost beside yourself today, Roy, and so has every other man that's crossed my path. Could you imagine that effect multiplied by a third and happening everyday?"

"Yes, once I get used to it, it might even be pleasant to see on a daily basis," he said, wondering himself if that was the truth, a half-truth, or a bald-faced lie. It felt like a lie on his lips. He'd never get used to seeing her like this. And part of him didn't want to share the sight of her stocking covered legs either. Those little pangs of jealousy were going to be the death of him until he squashed it, he just knew it. Riza frowned, letting her fists clench as her cool demeanor cracked a little. "Is ogling other women all you think about? You really can be a bastard sometimes, you know that," she said more as fact than a question, the hurt intruding in her voice.

Roy winced and cursed himself as she picked up her pace to move away from him. Not thinking, he grabbed the blonde's shoulder to stop her before she was out of reach. Riza whirled on him, ready for a public argument, at least until her shoe heel slipped over a crack in the pavement. Her balance wasn't helped when someone on the busy sidewalk shoved her forward on their way past while she was turned. Off-balance, she leaned towards the Colonel with a startled cry, quickly falling over. He cursed out loud and dropped the books to grab her before she fell. The Lieutenant staggered and landed against his chest, both of them pressed together as his arms clasped her close to him. For a long moment, all Riza could think about was how dark his eyes really were as she looked up into them, solid glossy blackness like obsidian. The only thing she could see in his eyes was her own startled expression reflected back at her in their glassy surface. That was, before the reflection was broken as he closed his eyes.

Roy's mouth dropped open, his mouth dry when he tried to talk. There was something about holding Hawkeye in his arms that seemed as frightening as it was wondrous. Maybe, it was something about the way she looked into his eyes that made him forget about everything but her. Slowly, all those thoughts about her he'd been pushing aside since Breda's misplaced gossip came rushing back. Jealousy, possessiveness, lust, and something else. That unknown something else was very frightening the more it lingered in his head. Roy's eyes slid closed as he tried to get a grip on his emotions before they shattered his long held mask completely. His hands moved from clasping her to him to grip her shoulders instead, slowly pushing her away as she found her footing. His eyes opened again as she finally spoke, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said, almost reluctantly as he could see a slight blush over her cheeks. It must have been the sun as the day suddenly felt warmer to him too. Fucking shit, he was losing it. Roy bent over to grab the books scattered on the pavement before they got trampled on. Riza crouched down next to him, silently grabbing a few as well. "I take it back," she said softly after a few long moments filled with only the quiet between them.

"Take what back?" he asked, probably sounding dumb to her.

"You have your moments when you're not a complete bastard," she admitted as he stared at her, almost numb with shock, "No matter what Edward Elric thinks of you."

"Huh, you've been listening to that brat too much. Sometimes I think I coddle them both, him and his brother," Roy admitted, letting the moment pass as if he never held her, "But, then again, he has his times when he's not quite a kid or a brat."

"Much like you, sir," she beamed at him, and he could almost hear her teasing laughter hidden behind her brown eyes rather than in her voice. The dark-haired man snorted in his own bout of self-aware laughter. Maes was right about her, she was one heck of distraction, even if he was beginning to like being distracted. This talk was going so far beyond what he had thought to achieve, past the bet, past even their normal office-bound niceties. Maybe he should have admitted defeat, while he was still sane, but his pride still wouldn't let him surrender, not yet. He never should have let her goad him into this bet in the first place. "You know, I don't understand why you won't just let this go," he grumbled as he picked up the last book, standing back up. "You of all people should know how stubborn I can be."

Riza's good mood evaporated as soon as the words were out of his mouth and hanging in the air. She stood up, adjusting her skirt and pushing away the dirt while holding the armful of books. "I thought that would be obvious, sir, given your talents with women," she retorted, not bothering to hide the look of loathing on her face, "Do you even remember what you said?"

"Vaguely?" Roy asked, suddenly nervous. What had he said again that kicked off this powder keg? Shit, something about not noticing her in a skirt? Suddenly, her fingers were itching for a gun, and as he was slowly remembering, he was itching to duck for cover. Maybe that wasn't the brightest thing to say about a woman who was obviously prideful about her appearance. "I'm sorry?" he offered, noticing the slight twitch in her arms as she walked.

"You're sorry? Now of all times? It took you this long to figure out exactly what you said, didn't it?" Riza asked, her voice dripping with disdain as her eyes rolled, "You know, even if I don't win this bet, if it teaches you at least a little about tact around women you're not actively seducing, I think I'd die happy."

"You know, I'm not that much of a screw up. I've gotten this far in my career even if there's still a long way to go, which is quite an accomplishment given everything that's happened," he grumbled, breaking off for a long moment as she didn't answer him before continuing, "So I slipped up, it was a small joke after all . . ."

"It was a joke at my expense in front of the whole office. You couldn't have painted me as more invisible short of dipping me in camouflage," she said, snarky in her exaggeration, "I may be tolerant of every other little annoying thing you do, but I draw the line at being the butt of your cracks on the opposite sex."

"So . . . this is what it's all about then?" Roy asked as his voice dropped dangerously low, "You think you're invisible, that I don't notice you?"

She blinked, but made no otherwise noticeable reaction to his question. So what if he guessed right? He'd shaken her pride with his unwitting insult, and her pride wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of an answer, at least, not a truthful answer anyway. "No," she answered, the lie heavy on her tongue, "I just am not letting you get away with your antics this time. Someone has to stand up to challenge your ideas before your own idiotic policies get the better of you."

This time, it was Roy who blinked. Riza had protected him in the past, but he never thought she carried her guardianship to the extent of protecting him from himself before. Her devotion seemed to run deeper than he realized, more than he deserved probably. He didn't feel worthy of such loyalty at all. If he were a better person, maybe it wouldn't feel so bad. Then again, maybe her opinion would change if she knew what he had done, but maybe not. Either way, there was only one thing he could say for everything she'd done for him, or would do in the future. "Thank you," he said softly, not looking at her as the words spilled from his mouth, "Even if I may not act like I appreciate it, or need it all the time, thank you . . . just in case I forget to mention it."

He grinned as a confused look spread across her face. Eventually her confusion dissolved with a smile as they turned the corner, rapidly coming up towards the library. "You're welcome," Riza said as she threw him a cat-like grin, her brown eyes half-lidded, "But you're not off the hook yet, and the day's long from being over."

"It that a threat or a promise?" he asked as he grinned as well. There was something about her eyes that made his heart beat a little easier, letting up on the tight grip with which he'd held it in check. That was until she actually giggled, walking past him as her eyes rolled upwards. Suddenly, he felt nervous and elated at the same time to hear her laugh so easily. She glanced back at him from over her shoulder, "That, Roy, is up to you to decide."

* * *

Why did she tell him that? If he didn't know better, he would have thought Riza was teasing him. For all he knew, she was teasing him. The whole conversation plagued him now that they had run out of things to say, leaving her words rattling around his head. They had chatted idly on the way back, the whole war almost forgotten, but now it had fallen into an uneasy silence. After dropping off the books at the Second Branch Library, they picked up the second load, and had walked them over to Scieszka's small, and overcrowded, desk in the First Branch only to find it deserted. They decided to wait until she came back from lunch, but it also left them alone together for longer than he wanted. Somewhere between all the walking and the waiting, his original plans to convince Riza to drop the bet got left in the dust. After arguing with her, then catching her before she fell to hold her in his arms, and then back to arguing, he had realized just how little he appreciated her. Winning a lousy bet was suddenly the least of Roy Mustang's problems.

Something was wrong, and he could feel it the more her words went through his head. Well, maybe not wrong, just different. It was a difference he didn't like as it kept bringing up that frightening unknown feeling hanging over his head. It wouldn't have been so bad if he could have at least heard more of her voice and words to distract him from it. Apparently, talking more was not what she wanted as she stared off into other parts of the office removed from the main library hall. Riza leaned casually against one side of the desk that was nearest to Scieszka's, the books resting on her hip as her arm kept them from slipping down. Roy had been staring at her legs instead of the floor while he kept his head down, watching her like a hawk the whole time they waited. The more he looked, the more he had to admit that she held true to her threat. While she wasn't tall, her legs were long in proportion and the heels only exaggerated it. For the briefest of moments, Roy idly wondered what her legs would feel like if he touched them, before he snapped himself out of it. That thought alone crossed too many boundaries between them, and he knew it. And yet, as his eyes slowly drifted up over the rest of her figure, he started to wonder if some boundaries were meant to be crossed. "You know, you do look nice today, Riza," he muttered before he could stop himself, wincing as soon as he said it.

Her head snapped towards him, brown eyes blinking until she caught where his glance was. A grin spread over her lips as she spoke, a teasing lilt to her voice, "Why thank you, Roy, but make sure you look all you want now, tonight I plan to burn this skirt so I'll never have to wear it again," she winced and kicked off one of her heels, stretching her toes, "Along with these heels. If you put in policy regarding footwear, you're dead."

"I'll keep that in mind . . . but is does look nice on you, didn't I say that already? I meant it," Roy said as he looked away, scratching the back of his head to keep from twitching in embarrassment. That was about as smooth as taking sandpaper to silk. He was losing his touch. Why was he complimenting her anyway? Riza noticed that as well, still grinning as she slipped her shoe back on. All the cracks in the carefully built armor he kept around his life were showing, making her wonder just how much of his act was real, and how much was a lie. The compliment felt like the truth. He was obviously embarrassed to have said it. If there was one thing she rarely saw Roy as, it was embarrassed when complimenting a woman. Somehow, his little admission was even more endearing than Al's. "Thank you, sir," she said as he slowly turned his head back towards her, "I already knew you meant it since you didn't call me gorgeous or anything, just nice."

Roy matched her grin, feeling better about the now seemingly small confession. "For me to call you gorgeous would do you an injustice, Hawkeye. You don't need my misguided opinions on feminine beauty to tell you when a mirror will suffice."

To see his Lieutenant's mouth drop open in shock was worth the price of making a lousy bet. Another boundary was crossed. He knew he was flirting, only this time he kind of meant it. She blinked at him, unsure of how to take the flattery. It was certainly honest, to an extent. He did have misguided opinions on women, just not on beauty. Slowly, an insidious feeling twisted in her mind over his words, blinking more as she realized that flattery was flirting as well as sincere. This was about the first time he hit on her and meant it. That thought alone brought down an avalanche of realization, the dawning of an understanding. He . . . liked her, in the more than merely platonic partners and just friends sense.

That was crazy talk, right? Roy couldn't like her that way, could he? It seemed a completely foreign idea until she started to put the pieces of their conversation together along with his actions that morning. Of course he was lecherous enough to stare at her, that was a given, but when he teased her about flirting with that stranger, then asked why she didn't eat lunch with Armstrong, and now this. His sudden interest in her social life, and his focus on her appearance could only mean one thing. He really did like her and was jealous. Suddenly it all made sense as he grinned at her, something shining in the darkness of his eyes. She looked away, fighting down a growing blush as she rebelled against the notion that he was taken with her. First of all she wasn't his type. She was too smart for him that was certain. She was also too aggressive, a trait he probably didn't like; all the women he dated were meek things more in awe of him than anything else. Secondly, she knew him too well. Even if he did try to charm her, it wouldn't work . . . unless he meant it. That was the part that undid the Lieutenant's logical rationale. If he really, really, was interested in her, and meant every word of it, he would be very hard to resist. For all she knew, he was acting again, like he did with those other women. But did he mean it? She had to know.

At least it was a good line anyway. Riza's grin turned into a small, slightly hopeful smile, before she sobered up completely, "I suppose I should thank you then, again, sir, but there probably isn't a need to."

"You're welcome . . . I think," Roy said as it was now his turn to be confused, "Why do you think that?"

"Because this isn't the first time you've complimented me on my appearance along with other things. Except you just never meant them before," she said pointedly looked away, as if she was ignoring him. Roy looked scandalized, her implications all the worse since she was partially correct. While he hadn't meant it all the other times he had jokingly flirted with her, in retrospect, he . . . did mean them too. He was lying then, but now it was the truth, was it still lying? And how the hell could she tell if he meant them or not? Looking rather nervous, Roy glanced away again, fumbling for an answer until it struck him. A smile slowly crept onto his face, the nervous look disappearing, "Well, if I didn't mean them before, maybe it was because I didn't think you'd accept my compliments."

"Why would you think that?" Riza asked as she blinked before suddenly realizing it was a trap as the Colonel grinned.

"Because I didn't think you would be interested in me before."

Her cheeks went scarlet as her mouth dropped open again. Roy grinned, her reaction enough to tell him his guess was true. But, as soon as she saw his grin, Riza's brown eyes hardened in anger, "Don't be absurd, I have no interest in you whatsoever."

To emphasize her point, she slammed the books in her arms on the desk she had been leaning against. It also covered her wince. She knew she was lying, again. "Then why did you blush?" he asked so innocently that it only goaded her anger more.

"Because instead of being flattered by you arrogant assumption, I'm rather insulted by it," Riza said, dripping her voice in held back anger to keep it from wavering. Damn, she was lying again. In reality, she was shocked as hell since she didn't even know she was interested in him. She was supposed to be questioning him anyway, not fending him off. This called for retaliation. She looked him in the eyes, moving a little closer towards the Colonel. "Maybe it's you who's interested in me? I mean you did compliment me, and you haven't been able to keep your greedy eyes off of my legs. I'm rather offended," she countered, grinning on the last statement.

This time it was Roy's turn to blush, if only slightly, "Well, how could anyone not notice you while you're parading around in that short skirt and killing your feet in those heels?"

"Isn't that the whole point of our bet?"

"Yes, but maybe I do like the idea of you wearing that stuff for me," Roy said before he realized what he said. Shit, he meant 'because of me', it just didn't come out of his mouth like that. Riza gasped, and he knew it was too late to take it back. And yet, instead of getting offended, like he figured, or going for her guns, like he feared, a smirk slowly trudged up her lips once the shock wore off. "I knew it . . ." she muttered before grinning, "I was right."

"Don't be absurd," he said, suddenly wishing that wasn't what he said at all, "I, um, we only work together, I would never do anything to-."

"Oh really?" Riza asked as she moved closer, standing easily in reach of his arms, "Then why did you say that?"

Something snapped in Mustang in that instant, something he wished he could have squashed before the argument had reached this point. There was a small stab of pain around her that hurt ever since she got assigned right into his life. But now, today of all days, it not only hurt like someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed, but it also turned his head till he finally really noticed her. There was a dark, fiery look in Roy's eyes, and momentarily, the blonde's determination shook. Before she could escape, his hand latched onto her arm, pulling her closer until she was pressed against him. Face to face with one another and touching in too many places to be just friendly, Riza Hawkeye was stunned to speechlessness. Her lips parted, sucking in a deep breath. Roy didn't move either. Both of them had been riveted to the spot, until his head lowered slightly towards hers as if she was drawing him in. "Maybe I just can't help myself anymore," he said finally, his voice as dark and sultry as his eyes.

"Colonel?" asked a quiet voice across the room, coming from the doorway.

Roy quickly let the Lieutenant go, and she stepped back just as fast. Scieszka looked at them both from the door, her eyes as big as her glasses. Unsure if she should be angry at or thankful to the Private, Riza kept emotion from her face as she casually tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, "Ah, must have been a good lunch to be gone so long."

A delighted grin spread over the brown-haired young woman's face, "It's ok. I can come back later."

Suddenly, both the Colonel and the Lieutenant had a good reason to blush.

* * *

This was torture. She was torturing him for coming onto her. There was no other explanation for it. After his confession, and the near kiss in Scieszka's office, Riza went back to keeping two steps behind him. She also seemed to forget his name and only remembered his rank over her. He'd never been more frustrated at her calling him 'sir' than he was on that walk back to Headquarters. The elevator ride was also just as bad, even if it was more dependent on his lousy luck than on her avoiding him. After the lift emptied onto the second floor, he just about attacked, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around before she knew what was happening. There it was again, that spark as he lowered his head towards her, about to kiss her. Then the bell rung and the doors opened onto the third floor. Riza had slipped out of his grasp and into the hallway. The two officers waiting entered the elevator, blocking his way out as the doors slid closed again. When he came back into the office, she was already at her desk, going over papers as the others looked up to watch them. He didn't even get to ask her why she had run, but he could assume what her reason was. Of all the women for him to come on too strong to, it had to be Riza Hawkeye.

She was torturing him, ever so slowly, just by sitting at her desk.

Whether or not she realized it, she lazily wrote on the papers while her skirt left enough to his lingering imagination that it wandered into places that he didn't like. Her chair was turned toward his door with her coat thrown over the back, as was usual in the afternoon when he wasn't doing anything but paperwork. It was so she could keep her eyes on him, to know he was actually working and not napping. Like he could concentrate on work or sleep right now anyway. Every time he looked up at her crossed, stocking-covered legs and took mere glances at the black lace lingerie underneath, he felt his blood pulse strongly. In a blessing of luck or one of its cruel tricks, her legs parted enough that he could dimly make out even more black lace. So that was what she wore under there. It took all his willpower to look away and look busy when she looked towards him. She was no longer just a hell of a distraction, he was just in hell.

The longer the afternoon dragged on, the more he realized that he was not just jealous and not just lusting after her. It was both, and something more, something that still frightened him to think about. If it was just one or the other, he could have handled it, but not both. And the something else only made him more crazed to sate what he was feeling. And that jolt when he came close to kissing her only confirmed it, not once, but twice. He wanted her, to hold her again, to kiss her, to feel her, to know her, to touch those legs, to keep her by his side whenever he could; and the part that scared him the most was that didn't think he could ever stop wanting her once he was allowed that much. What the hell was coming over him? Once he did that . . . she'd want the same in return, and more, but could he give that much?

All women wanted that, love, which was probably why he went through so many. Once they realized he would never really love them in return, or that he didn't want them any more, or that they didn't want him, they were gone. It didn't matter to Roy. He didn't care if they stayed or went. But with Riza, he would probably always care. Damn, he was losing it. Damn her, damn the bet, damn the feeling clenching in his heart, and damn those fucking sparks! And damn himself for touching her. The blonde looked up again, catching his eyes moving over her, his thoughts betrayed in them. He figured she'd probably seen right through him as her gaze softened. He looked down quickly before his traitorous stare caused more problems, quickly signing the form in front of him without reading it. He then noticed it was the form to give Havoc three days leave for some stupid reason. To meet some woman visiting Jean, he thought it was. Damn, he didn't want to sign that until the last minute, just to torture him a little.

Roy groaned, and then heard a slight giggle from out in the office. He looked up to see that Riza was at least amused by his pain, her lips quirked in a small smile to hide a knowing grin. Sighing, he moved the paper to the far side of his desk, not wanting to see it anymore. The Colonel was half standing up and bending over to make sure it was far, far away when he heard her heels on the floor rapidly entering his office as he froze and looked up. She closed the door behind her and Roy sat back down, almost falling into the chair as it rolled back. Riza looked at him curiously, "I'm not interrupting anything, sir, am I?"

"No . . ." he said, wanting to say more until his mouth ran dry. She didn't move except to take one step towards the right side of his desk. "I just wanted to pick up some of the finished papers so I can have them filed before the end of the day," Riza explained before taking another step closer.

"That's fine," he said, sinking back in his chair. There went hoping that she came in here for something unprofessional in nature. He kept the disappointment off of his face well except that his eyes fell a little. Riza's eyes drifted from Mustang to his desk as she gave an irritated sigh. "So typical," she muttered before walking to his side, "You always were so unorganized with your papers, I shouldn't have to be your maid too."

Roy grinned as she started to clean up his desk, "But I don't mind at all."

Her head whipped around to glare at him as she bent over slightly to reach for a piece of paper, a smirk on her lips, "Of course you wouldn't, why didn't I think of that?"

He gave a small chuckle as her brown eyes rolled upwards. After that, she ignored his presence completely as she shuffled the signed papers scattered all over into a single pile. She probably would have been out of his hair for the rest of the day after that, the arguments and temptation forgotten and the bet lost, if she would have just chosen a different pair of cursed shoes. And all to grab the last signed paper, the one he had strategically placed as far away as possible. In a move that spoke volumes in lack of forethought, Riza bent over the desk to reach it, balancing on one leg as the other stretched back. Her heel slipped out from under her when she bent too far, falling with a startled shout. Before she could get far, she felt a hand on the back of her hip and another pull at her waist. The papers in her hands went flying as her downward movement stopped in a sudden jarring, but unusually soft, landing. She felt a warm breath tingle her ear, "Those shoes really are dangerous."

Her pale skin went red as she realized that she was sitting in Roy's lap, his arms around her waist and legs. So that was why she felt something on her thigh. "Damnit," she cursed, trying not to shudder or stammer, "All the more reason not to change the dress code."

"Riza . . ." he said almost threateningly but softly, his hand gripping her leg through the skirt more firmly, "Let's not start that again."

She shifted in his grasp, trying to escape it while she could, "Um, sir, I'm fine now, you can let go."

"I do have a name," he said softly into her ear, making it burn with flushed heat, "You could try saying it once in a while."

"Roy . . . Colonel," she said, pouring every amount of resistance she could into her voice, "Let go."

Riza felt his hand on her leg slide down a moment, past the blue fabric to touch her stocking-covered skin. She tried not to gasp, but couldn't help drawing in a sharp breath at his fingers. And then, his hands were gone, lifting away from her body. He had let her go. She slid off his lap and onto her feet again before he changed his mind, or before she changed hers.

Just about to turn away from him to pick up the fallen papers, she suddenly stopped, nearly falling again as he touched her leg. It was just a finger on the inside of her knee, but it was enough to stop her in her tracks. She stood there frozen as his finger drew a line up higher on her stocking while his thumb joined in to trace the back seam. Why was she just standing there? She should have been fighting him off, right? If this were any other day, Riza probably would have a gun pressed to his head by now. Yet, somewhere during the walk to the library, her realization that he wanted her, those near kisses, and now this, her resistance to the idea of Roy Mustang had crumpled, and now shattered completely. Maybe she should have let him kiss her, and then she would have known if the shock of just his hands were lust, or something more. It didn't matter now as his hand reached under her skirt and glided past the top of the thin hose to touch skin. A sharp moan squelched in her dry throat, she bent over slightly and braced herself on the desk, helpless to resist. Traitorously, she unconsciously took a half step away, her legs opening to the intruding touch.

She heard the chair turn behind her and felt a tug on her skirt. He must have taken her lack of fighting or pulling away as a sign of want, something she wasn't about to deny either. God help her, she wanted him to touch her. His fingers felt so close now, the anticipation making the burn more intense. Cool air rushed over Riza's skin as he lifted the short garment over her ass, making her jump in the suddenness. The chair squeaked in protest, and she knew he was standing over her now. A shiver ran down her spin as Roy leaned against her, pressing a kiss just above the collar of her black turtleneck, soft, just like she always imagined he kissed other women. He groaned into her ear as she felt his fingers run up the back of her black lace garters, stopping when he reached the matching panties. Tracing the material down the curve of her rear made the Lieutenant bend over until she was sprawled across the desk, moving in his grasp eagerly the closer he came to touching her where she wanted it. When he finally did, Riza Hawkeye was lost, shuddering as he pressed the fabric into her folds. She moaned.

As soon as the sound was out of her mouth, everything happened at once. Ever since the first touch, Roy had desperately clung to going slow out of fear of her reaction. When she let him touch her, liked it, and didn't shoot him, holding back anymore seemed idiotic. Pulling his hands away, he swept her knees and feet out from under her, flipping her prone body over and hauling her towards the center of the desk. Papers, pens, and other items clattered to the floor, but he didn't care. As soon as she was directly in front of him, Mustang shoved his hand down the front of her underwear, feeling her heat and wet flesh quivering as she moaned again before biting down on her lips. His fingers curled, parting the delicate skin as she tried to grind herself against him. She gasped when they slid into her, brown eyes wide then closing. Brushing his thumb over her clit, Riza gave a sharp cry before it died on her lips.

Just the sound of her voice made him want to silence her mouth with his as he moved between her legs, wrenching them apart. The heat under the layers of his uniform was unbearable as her thighs tried to close around his hips. Roy felt her hands grab at his jacket collar, pulling him down on top of her as he tried to resist, intent on the movement of his hand over her center instead. Apparently she had other ideas. Using him as leverage, she pulled herself up until their lips met, lightly. He could feel the blonde teasing him as she backed off just when he got a taste of her. All it did was drive him with a need to consume her. All those little sparks added up to undoing his control. His hand became relentless in finding her secrets, to make her as wild as he felt. He'd never let a woman get to him this badly before, his other arm shaking with desire as he braced himself against the desk, letting her tug on his clothes incessantly. Riza's body arched as she moaned again as his fingers furrowed deeper, a sound that needed to be silenced before the whole damned office knew. Before the moan could turn into a scream, he kissed her.

Roy Mustang had lost.

That was a good description for finally kissing Hawkeye like he wanted. If he died then and there in her arms, it would have made a fitting epitaph. Roy had lost, felt lost, and was just plain lost in her lips and burning mouth as it opened to him. She was allowing his tongue to ravage her as much as his hands were, and it was as gratifying as just holding her. Even the last vestiges of coherent thoughts were lost. It was replaced with a consuming need to be even closer to her, driven by those damned sparks again. She must have felt it too. She probably wouldn't have let him get this far if she hadn't. As Riza nibbled on his lips, sucking on them lightly, he knew just touching her wasn't enough.

His fingers abandoned their pursuit, pulling out so that he could wrap his arms over her curves. Her legs tightened over his waist, both of them dimly aware of the clunk of her shoes hitting the floor. Somehow, it didn't bother them. They were too intent on exploring each other's mouths. In the midst of all the heat coursing through his veins, Mustang became aware of the painful clenching in his heart. Each beat drummed through his ears, rising above all the wonderful sounds Riza made deep in her throat. He was also acutely aware of the exactly how tight his pants and boxers were when her hips pressed into him, causing him to groan into her mouth.

She nearly tore his blue jacket open in her haste, and had half of his white collared-shirt and undershirt pulled out before he grabbed her wrists. The blonde fought against Roy as he pushed her down and pinned her arms, still connected at their lips and pressed together at the hips. Clothes didn't seemed to matter as Riza writhed under him, tearing her lips away to give a whimpering cry before burying it in his neck. He felt the same way, desperate to alleviate the hardness he felt. What did he feel? All he could feel at the moment was the woman devoted to him grinding her hips into his, and it felt like heaven or hell. But what was she to him if they continued like this? His subordinate, his confidant, his companion, his friend, his lover? Did he love her?

Oh God, he did love her.

Reason snapped back into Roy's head over the rush of desire, making him spring off of Riza's body. The dark-haired man took one staggering step back and collapsed into his chair. She didn't move from where she laid on the desk, too stunned from the loss to move. That was . . . unexpected. Slowly, she recovered and sat up, biting her lips to keep from groaning at the unfulfilled ache between her legs. The Colonel was still in his chair, brooding with his elbows on his knees and his hands clench under his chin until they were bone-white. He didn't even look up at her, his dark eyes fixed on the floor. After the heat of his kisses, his touch, his body, the coldness in his look felt as if she'd been plunged in ice. Remembering what had happened only moments ago made the look all the more painful. Riza opened her mouth after working up her courage, but her jaw snapped shut as he raised his hand, "Don't . . ."

Her heart sunk a little at his words, just knowing whatever he said next were words she didn't want to hear. "I'm sorry, Riza, I shouldn't have touched you," he said, his voice hollow, even if there was a conflict on emotion across the rest of his features, "This was a mistake."

Anger lit up in the pit of her stomach, not wanting to believe him, "This was a mistake? That's all you can say? But what-?"

Roy's eyes flashed up at her and she could read the emotion dominating them, stopping her voice. Fear. Her anger died slowly, replaced by sympathy for him and curiosity as to what could make the Colonel afraid. Still perched on his desk, she slowly reached out to touch his cheek. He let her slide her hand over his skin, the comfort seeping into him as the mask slipped away. Maybe she would understand him. Maybe she would feel the same. He wished that she did as he nuzzled her palm. He was so afraid of letting her know, of what she'd say. "What are you afraid of, Roy?" she asked so innocently that it shook him from his revelry.

He couldn't let her in this easily. He was too afraid of letting her see himself.

His hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her hand. When she reached for him with the other, the dark-haired man pushed her back until her arms wer pinned to her own chest. The soft expressions were gone in her eyes, replaced with anger again as she struggled to break free. He seemed to snap when she pushed against him, the fire in his eyes rising as well as his fear. It was no use trying to hide it now. "I am afraid that I don't know myself anymore," Roy admitted as his mask crumbled completely.

She fought harder until he had to stand up and push her back down on the desk so that she was pinned completely. They were both panting, and still fighting, if only more weakly, until he growled between clenched teeth, "I'm afraid that I'm not the nice person everyone thinks I am."

The dark voice with which he said those last words made Riza finally stop. He shut his eyes hard until his whole face scrunched together, pain shaking down his arms into hers, "I don't know which parts are truly me anymore, and which parts are the mask. I never wanted this. I never wanted to be someone else, someone everyone looked up to. I am not a hero. All I only ever wanted was to make a difference, to pay for the things I've done, and I am no where even close to earning back that redemption. I don't deserve selfless devotion from anyone, especially from you. I don't deserve to touch you for what I've done. I won't let you try to change my mind, and I won't make the same mistake again. It's over, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry . . . but this was my mistake."

Roy seemed to wind down, exhaling with a slight groan. His hands fell away as he collapsed back into the chair, leaving the blonde lying on the desk again. It took her a few moments to absorb the confession, playing it back in her head as she slowly sat up once more. He was back to brooding, but this time his hands covered his face until all she could see was his mouth. Damn him if he thought she was this easily scared away. Who did he think she was? It went right to her pride that he'd think of her as someone that needed protection when it had always been the opposite between them before. Riza slid off the desk, her skirt still up around her waist. She gripped the edge of the wooden surface tightly, using it to keep her rising anger out of her voice, "How can you say that to me? Do you think that little of me or that much to put me on a pedestal?"

Slowly he looked up as her voice stuck in her throat. The bitterness and anger kept rising as the realization started to sink in that he had truly meant it, that it was over, just when she was started to think that she could . . . that she could love him. Staring back at him, her brown eyes glazed over with icy fire, burrowing into him, "Do not mistake me for one of your easy girlfriends, sir. I don't care what you think you deserve or what you think I deserve. I don't care what you think of yourself because I know you're better than your worst thoughts. I would have transferred out of this department long ago otherwise. How can you, after almost seven years, think that I would see the real you and run? I don't run, God, how can you believe such-?"

"Such what? Such truth? Face it, Riza, I'm never going to be a knight in shining armor for anyone, I'm not a hero-."

"Such bull shit!" she yelled in Roy's face, loud enough that the whole office probably knew they were fighting, "I care about you! We all care about you! Isn't that enough?! You are not the only person here that believes in what we do! We all believe in changing this place for the good! We all believe in you! I believe in you! I-"

She stopped, biting her lips as those words were on the tip of her tongue. As his hands lowered until his dark eyes could look at her hopefully, the words finally spilled, "I love you, you bastard, isn't that enough?"

For a brief moment, the hope in his eyes lit up until his heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. But, just as suddenly as that feeling bloomed, it withered slowly, bleeding away under the weight of his guilt. Roy lowered hands, the frown and his downcast eyes telling her enough. He didn't need to speak but he did anyway, twisting into her more painfully than a knife, "No, I'm sorry, but it isn't enough."

Riza lashed out in her grief and anger, the slap against his cheek resounding throughout the small room. Her hand stung but at least it was her hand. She quickly pulled her skirt back down and slipped her feet into her heels before storming across the room. Roy just sat there, numb, even to the slam of the door when she was gone. It was probably out of sheer stupidity that he did it, or his inclination to torture himself, or maybe it was just so hard to let it go and let himself be happy. But now, all he could think about at that moment wasn't himself, but her. It was for her own good he kept telling himself, maybe that would let him sleep that night. Self-sacrifice was a noble enough reason, even if it now made him feel like a liar. He was a hero, just a stupid, foolish one. He was a hero in love, and heroes always gave up the ones they loved for their own good, didn't they? He loved her. Despite the day from hell, he realized that he really, genuinely, loved her. And now she would be gone . . . What had he just done?

* * *

To Be Continued in Part 2 of A Betting Crowd, Cutting the Losses. 


	3. Cutting the Losses

A Betting Crowd

A Full Metal Alchemist fanfiction, By Serenanna

Part 2 – Cutting the Losses

Warnings and Disclaimers: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist or any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with. I'll return them later after, promise. There is adult content and sexual situations in this story. So, if you're under 18, leave now before your virgin eyes are scarred forever, if you're over 18, enjoy! There is also aggressive teasing, rough foreplay, and creative use of office and library type settings in this fic, including elevators. Yes, I said elevators. If those hentai thoughts alone aren't enough to ward you off, hang on for the ride.

Story Notes: Time frame for this fic doesn't matter as my knowledge of FMA is a bit scattered but obviously before the ending and Maes's death, and set during the anime series. Also, this is a Roy and Riza fic along with implied Ed and Winry. This fic should be viewed as taking place between Overhaul, and Overhaul 2: The Tune Up as there are some minor connections. Being this is fanfiction, liberties were taken with the actions of the characters and certain parts of the fic are not canonal, I just don't know which ones. Certain clichés usual to Roy and Riza fics are also being tossed out after having a lengthy discussion with a military vet and making sure the clichés weren't canon. If it goes against the grain of what you like in Roy/Riza fics, tough. I also don't know the exact layout of their offices, so I'm winging it. This fic hinges on substantially romantic plot, is really, really long in each chapter, and is considerably hentai. This chapter in particular is considerably hentai. No, really, it's about 70 percent lemon from here on out. Beta reading has been done by Darkilluser. (Thank you!) Read the above disclaimers again if you're still squeamish, but I assure you, it'll be worth it. No tubular pieces of fabric called skirts were harmed in the production of this dirty piece of smut . . . well . . .

* * *

By the time the door was closed, Riza had gotten a grip on her torrent of emotions enough to only glare imminent death at the three subordinates gawking from their desks. She wouldn't kill them, but if they asked what just happened between her and Mustang . . .

That look was enough to send them back to focusing on their paperwork. She stomped over to her own desk and began riffling through the drawers, pulling out boxes and a large wooden case. She knew she kept all this ammo hidden in her desk for a good reason, along with the bigger guns. This would be enough to keep her from killing him, for now, and enough to give her time to grieve. She was a fool, a god-damned fool. To think she said that to him, to Roy Mustang, the ultimate ladies man of Central, her boss. To think that she admitted she loved him. To think she actually believed him when he rejected her. He had to be lying, trying to protect her again like the idiot bastard he was, but all her nagging doubts shouted back that she was just in denial. She didn't know what to believe, slamming her fist down onto the table. Three pairs of eyes looked up at her because of the sound, terrified by the coldness of her glare. She needed to get out of there.

"Gentlemen, I am going back to the shooting range for two hours. These are your orders for those two hours," the Lieutenant said as she pushed all emotion from her voice, "Fuery, in five minutes you are to go into the Colonel's office and retrieve every signed piece of paper in there no matter where they lay, and then make sure they all get filed. Havoc, help him with that second part. You are to tell Mustang exactly where I went, when I will be back, exactly how much ammo I took with me, and that I'm carrying the .45 caliber set as well. If he wants to talk, he knows where to find me. You are not to ask what any of this was about, and anything you've heard at all today it is not to leave this department. If the Colonel triea to leave the building early, you are to stop him, and all your regular work must be close to done by the time I return. If any of these orders are disobeyed, I will shoot you in places you will remember, am I clear?"

Three heads nodded dumbly at her and she turned, leaving. Once she was gone, they let out the breaths they'd been holding since the shouting had started minutes ago. In the aftermath, Havoc seemed like the only one not scared into silence as he muttered with a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth, "Anyone want to place a bet on Mustang surviving the day without a bullet in him?"

* * *

The rest of the afternoon went by quickly, almost a blessing to Roy after everything that had happened. He wanted nothing better than to go home and get plastered. Anything to forget Riza and those kisses. He would have been home already if it weren't for her orders to the three other men. It was ironic that his orders outranked hers, but their fear of her drove them to mutiny at the slightest threat of flesh wounds. Admittedly, he was scared of Hawkeye at the moment too. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. He probably should have amended that to hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and carrying loaded guns and a good reason to shoot first. The set of .45 caliber semi-automatic handguns she kept for 'special' occasions were threatening enough. On top of that, taking four boxes totaling four hundred bullets with her was enough to send him back to his desk without needing his men's mutiny.

He couldn't blame her, but at least she was blowing off steam on targets rather than on him.

When she did come back half an hour later than the two hours she said, Roy looked up from his paperwork at the sound of the door. Their eyes met, and suddenly he felt very, very sorry at the pain he saw in there. She looked away first, moving slowly over to her desk and falling boneless-ly into her chair. Not once in the next one and a half hours did she turn to look at him. She looked miserable no matter how much she tried to hide it. He couldn't blame her for cracking. The only person he could blame was himself. How could his day have gone this wrong? It was one stupid bet, but it had turned into so much more than he expected. Maes was right, she would be mad at him forever, even if it wasn't over losing the bet.

Maybe this wasn't the right choice after all.

As much as he wanted to believe that, he couldn't. It was too hopeful to think about, wasn't it? That he could love a woman, and be loved in return without feeling guilty over it? Hadn't he paid enough for being a murderer? With a wince at that thought, Roy knew that he had only scraped the surface of redemption. There were still battles, still missions, still people dying in their world when there was no need. If he could still make a difference, he would try, but . . . was it right to give her up in the process? In all practicality, Roy needed her help. He needed the support of all his friends. It was too much to handle alone. Snorting a chuckle, the dark-haired man realized that he could use some of that help right now. It wasn't like he was going to get any work done right now anyway.

He stood up and closed the door slowly, taking one last glance at Riza, while she was busy cleaning and oiling her firearms. She didn't even notice when the hinges squeaked. Holding back a sigh of regret, the Colonel locked it then picked up the phone on his desk. There was only one person who could help him now as he dialed the rotor with the numbers of his extension. It rung twice before being picked up with a crackle of sound, "Investigations, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes speaking."

"I don't suppose you could find my sanity for me?"

"Roy? What are you doing calling me with only half an hour left in the day? I thought you'd been trying to give Riza the slip around now, and setting me back thirty bucks?" Maes asked, his voice sounding exceedingly surprised.

"Part of me wishes I could . . . and part of me wishes this day were longer."

". . . You sound like you need a drink . . ."

"You think?"

"Of course I think, it's why I got stuck in Investigations."

"Maes . . . how much time you got right now?" Roy asked, unaffected by the mild joke, "This is going to be a long call."

"That bad?"

"Yeah . . ."

"It's one of those social problem calls, isn't it? It's this damned bet again?"

"Part of it, but yeah, this is one of those cases when I only wish it were work-related."

"Damn . . ." Maes cursed, his voice low. There was shuffling on the other side of the line as Roy winced. He heard a door close then the sound of the phone being juggled before he heard Hughes again, "You're lucky I finished this de-briefing with one of my field agents early . . . what the hell happened now?"

". . ."

"Roy, what is it? You have that tone of voice again."

"What tone of voice?"

"The one you've gotten since you came back from the War whenever you're thinking too damned much."

"Thank you for pointing that out to me," the Colonel said darkly, not meaning for it to come out as sarcastic as it did. From Maes's gruff murmur, Roy knew that wasn't the smartest thing for him to say at the moment. "Is this going to be one of those talks where I gotta just listen to you being all depressed and whining?" he asked, "Or do you really want my help?"

". . . Help?" Roy asked, probably sounding desperate. Well, he kind of was. Sighing, he leaned against his desk facing the door and just about sat down on it, the phone behind him as the cord trailed over his shoulder. How could he get the help he needed from Maes without entirely revealing what was plaguing him? Somehow he pictured that his friend would be all too enthusiastic about him and Riza to be objective. There was only one way around spilling his guts, "I just need to ask a few introspective questions of someone, and you're about the only friend I got who isn't going to blab to all of Central, and . . . who's more familiar with . . . something."

There was a long pause on the phone, and he could almost hear the wheels turning in the Lieutenant Colonel's head during the silence until he said, "I'm listening."

"When you were dating Gracia, when exactly did you 'know'? Did you just get used to her the more you dated, or was there just this moment when you . . . 'knew'?"

"When I 'knew'? Do you mean when I realized I was going to marry her?" Hughes's voice rose in shock, tense by the time be finished the question. Roy cringed at that word, marriage. That felt worse than if he had said love, but it fit from Maes's perspective. "Well, not that much, but . . ." he started to say, "At least when you realized it was more that just dating her."

There was another pause on the phone, "You're asking me when I realized I loved her, aren't you?"

"Well, you do, don't you?"

"Of course, I do, she's the love of my life, and the mother of the second love of my life. I just never had anyone ask me that question before, and I never imagined it would be you to ask it."

"Too personal of a question to ask?"

"For you, maybe . . ." there was another pause, and Roy felt like hanging up before Maes realized why he was asking, "Mustang, you never have talked about your life during the war, or about your personal life now except the obvious, and you never have been too forthcoming about the details in your life, even with your good friends, so forgive me because the sudden interest in mine is a bit unnerving."

"Maes-."

"Wait, I'm not going to ask why you're asking now though, since I can just about guess, so I'll just answer you anyway," Hughes breathed into the phone, a long exhale that almost sighed, "I 'knew' when kissed her the first time, which was the second date."

"Really? You didn't get to first base until the second date?" he asked, snickering darkly.

"Some of us aren't blessed with the natural gift of making women fall all over themselves, thank you," Maes said, sounding almost bitter, "But I think you're missing the point."

"Sorry, what's the point?"

"The point, my friend, isn't when I realized I loved her, but what I felt like when it happened."

"Which was?"

"It felt like I was home, at peace, finally."

Now it seemed more complicated that he originally thought it was. Home, that was so different of a concept than from when he kissed Riza. It hadn't felt like that at all, and definitely not the peace he spoke of. He felt weakened in all the heat, like he was holding onto something bigger than himself and was drowning in it. It felt like being lost, almost the opposite of being at peace. Maybe he had been wrong about everything. He was panicking thinking over that until Maes asked the obvious, "Something wrong?"

Roy bit the inside of his mouth to keep the panic down, thankfully sounding normal when he spoke again, "Yeah, a little, nothing major . . ."

"You're a terrible liar when you're this depressed."

He groaned, slumping down further onto the desk, "I must really be obvious then." suddenly, it didn't seem worth it to hide any longer, "I kissed her."

"Kissed her? Kissed who? Riza?" Maes seemed to start on the other side of the line, "You did! You kissed Riza! And this is why you're all depressed?!"

"It's was a little more that just kissing . . ." Roy admitted, unable to help the grin as Hughes sounded like he was choking and sputtering in the shock, "Just don't get your hopes up . . ."

That made the Lieutenant Colonel stop, ". . . You did something stupid didn't you?"

". . ."

"What did you do? Chicken out?"

". . ."

"You couldn't get it up?"

"Maes-! That is not the fucking problem!" Roy nearly yelled into the phone, reigning in his voice before the office heard more shouting, "That's absolutely the last problem I'd ever have with a woman."

"Then what is the problem? If I were you right now, I'd be happy as clam, for goodness sake. You kissed her, that beautiful woman!"

"This from the married man, your opinion doesn't count since you're always as happy as a goddamned clam," Roy grumbled, now regretting telling him, "This is pointless, I shouldn't have even asked you, I shouldn't have even kissed her ! I . . . I can figure it out on my own."

He was about to hang up, finally, when Maes voice stopped him, "Roy, wait . . . I don't know exactly what happened between you two, and I know you always make things more complicated for yourself then they need to be, so I'll tell you this as a friend . . . she loves you, and you love her. I noticed it after the first week of working with you two, you both are just too damned proud and messy of people to realize it, and I've always, always, wanted to tell you to quit running round with those stupid women you tend to like, and just-!"

"You knew?"

"All of Headquarters knew it would happen eventually, it just might take the heat death end of the universe for it to happen. I just never imagined it would take some stupid bet to bring things to a head," Maes chuckled, and Roy groaned. So much for discretion, but somehow he wasn't surprised in the least. Hughes voice stopped when he noticed that Mustang was being silent. Apparently this was far more serious than he thought. "All joking aside, Roy, whatever you're worried about, you should just stop and, well . . ." he started to say, taking a moment to put it into words until the most simple of phrases occurred to him, "Let it go, what ever it is, let it go."

"Is it that easy to just let go of something?"

"No . . ."

"Did you really feel at peace when you realized you loved her?"

"Yes, but . . ."

"But what?"

"But I'm not as complicated as you, and I don't worry so much. Loving her was about the easiest thing for me to decide in my life, and I didn't second guess it, which is probably why you called me. You're always second guessing things, aside from your own orders," Hughes said, giving a small chuckle, "If you do love her, really love her, like I'm sure you do, you don't need me to tell you. You already know it."

"Thank you . . ."

"It's why I'm here."

"One more thing . . . Gracia knows just everything about you, right? You've never hidden something from her?"

"You mean do I keep secrets from her?"

"For her own good?"

"Some things about our work I do skip over the details of, like in the case of Nina Tucker. I think she's happier not knowing the extent to which Shou went for his work. It still churns my stomach to think about it."

"You're not the only one, but, doesn't she every wonder?"

"She wonders, sure, but when she asks about how Nina was killed, I shoot one look at Elysia, shake my head, and she drops it. If she ever pressed me for the answer to what happened to that little girl, I wouldn't think twice about telling her the truth. But, for now, I think deep down she understands that it's better if she doesn't know. It must be the look we get in our eyes with all the horrors we've seen, each one of us in the military," Maes said as Roy nodded emphatically, even if his friend couldn't see it.

That was one reality of all their lives he agreed with whole-heartedly. Sighing, the Colonel frowned, thinking back over his own secrets. Could he tell Riza about how he murdered the Rockbells? About all the people of Ishbal he killed too? Well, she killed people as well, but most of them were in life and death situations, criminals, murderers in their own right, not wholesale slaughter, civilians. But . . . maybe out of all of them in the office she'd understand. If he loved her . . . "Roy?"

"Yeah, I'm still here, just thinking, again."

"Tell her."

"Huh?"

"Whatever it is you're holding back on, tell her then let it go."

"Why don't you tell Gracia then too?"

"Some day I will, when I don't keep seeing my little Elysia instead of Nina some nights . . . or some of the other children we've seen."

"Thanks, Maes, I think I will tell her after all . . ."

"Does this mean she's winning the bet too?"

Roy chuckled. Everything today seemed to come back to that stupid bet inevitably. Shit, and he'd almost forgot about it too. "I'm not answering that, do your job and investigate it when the day is over," he said, grinning to himself.

"Little Ed's right, you really are a bastard colonel," Hughes said, his voice sounding jokingly upset.

"Leave the brat of pip-squeak out of this, his opinion of me is based on the misguided notion that my sole reason for existence is to annoy the living shit out of him."

"Which of course it isn't, it's to get drunk, boss around everyone else under you, including FullMetal, and now probably to bend Riza over your desk and lift up that frighteningly small and figure hugging skirt."

"Maes-."

"I can only wish Gracia worked under me, that elevator is just about perfect to-."

"Good-bye, Maes."

"But Roy, you can't tell me you haven't once thought about-."

"That's on a need to know basis, and you don't need to know. I'll see you tomorrow, Hughes."

"But I'm betting Riza needs to know-."

Roy hung up the phone with a relieved if annoyed growl, still sitting on the desk in front of the office door. He let the talk with Maes wash over him, alleviating some of the confusion and uncertainty running through his head. Simple answers were Hughes's forte sometimes, as well as his intuition, which was probably why he was in Investigations and Mustang wasn't. He was probably right. He should just let it all go. Slowly, Roy stood up and opened the door again to just a crack, peeking out at Riza. She was busy writing something, probably another memo to be typed up by the secretarial pool and then signed by him. Was Maes right? Should he just . . . let it go? No, he'd never let it go completely, not until he was dead, Fuhrer, or at least in a place of making a difference. But maybe he could let it go enough to make her happy, and to keep his sanity. Roy opened the door all the way then turned his back, walking to his desk.

Back in his chair, Roy's eyes focused on her again. His heart thumped again in that endlessly annoying way, and he let it go. Suddenly, it didn't seem so annoying anymore. He really did love her, even if it didn't feel like how Hughes had described it. The thumping went away as the word resounded more in his head, love. It didn't feel so bad the more he got used to the idea too. Maybe once he calmed down and stopped fighting it, it would feel like that peace, like having a home. For a moment, her eyes glanced toward the open door and him before sliding back over the paper. The pain he'd caused was still there in her stare. He winced, a different kind of guilt setting in, one more personal. What had he done? It wasn't too late, was it?

Riza dropped the pen as he kept watching, sighing as she leaned her head on her hands. She looked miserable as a light flush spread over her cheeks. He caught her eyes drifting towards him again, and Roy smiled as he looked away. He'd seen enough to know that no matter how big of an idiot he was, and he was a really huge asshole of an idiot, she didn't hate him, yet. 

It just might work.

He could make it work, right? Of course he could. He was Colonel Roy Mustang. Nothing ever stopped him before. Not Brigadier Generals, chimeras, mad alchemists, or problematic pint-sized ones. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled just as much. No more running, no more hiding, and certainly no more half-assed heroics. He loved First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye . . . enough to let her make the choice. Nothing ever had stopped him before, except the sight of the woman he didn't know he loved in a short skirt and heels. Roy pulled out two sheets of paper from one of the desk drawers and a newly-filled pen, and then began to write.

* * *

Why did things have to go so wrong? Even after scaring the daylights out of the shooting range techs, she didn't feel any better. It was a first when raw anger released in firepower didn't improve her mood at least a little. Ok, so maybe she was feeling better. She didn't want to kill Roy now . . . she was just depressed over him. Every word she'd said to him she'd meant from the bottom of her heart, the depths of which were shocking even to her. Somehow kissing him had made everything feel right, so right that now everything seemed empty. It was going to be hard going home to just Hayate and lots of chocolate. For a moment, she went back to hating the Colonel, if only because of the looming prospect of how much chocolate, ice cream, and then strenuous exercise it was going to take to keep him out of her thoughts.

At least this hell of a day was over.

She slowly packed up, standing in front of her desk as the men were doing the same, filing the last of the papers. The main office door opened, and in walked Private Scieszka, who was smiling despite the load of books she carried, at least until she saw Riza's face. She set the books down on her desk, and the First Lieutenant forced a small smile on her lips that didn't reach her eyes. "Books the Colonel requested, he's been doing a lot of research lately," the bookworm said as she pushed her glasses up.

"They're mostly for FullMetal, I figured it would be easier to condense their request lists since he reads so much."

"No wonder one book was on sartorial alchemy changes. Maybe he's trying to make natural looking double-decker shoes to make up for his stature," Scieszka said as the blonde's smile turned into a smirk before faltering in a frown, "You didn't persuade him, did you?"

"I'm sorry, I tried, he's-."

"A bastard?"

"No, just stubborn, and stupid, and-."

"Looks really good in a uniform," Scieszka said softly so the others wouldn't hear, grinning madly, "I won't hate you so much if you at least tell me he kisses as well as he looks."

Riza went red, wanting to forget all about it along with the bet, "I didn't kiss him, we were just-."

"Talking? Really close together?"

"I fell. Heels are dangerous you know," she tried to sound convincing, but the brown-haired young woman's grin was still in place, "It doesn't matter, I lost anyway, the day's just about over."

"There's still hope, maybe if you-."

"And pigs fly."

"I haven't seen any bacon in the air yet, but that doesn't mean someone won't launch one for their State Exam," said a rough, but jokingly serious, voice from behind them. Both women jumped to see the Colonel standing close by, wearing his black overcoat and carrying a brown leather satchel. Her heart sank a little at the sight of him ready to go home. Apparently, there would be no further talks between them today. And yet, oddly enough, there was a large envelope in his hands. Riza didn't remember giving him one from the inter-office mail that day. Before she could ask, Roy practically shoved the parcel into her hands, and walked past them, "Read it out loud before everyone leaves, just a small announcement."

She blinked in surprise, but he was gone, out the door before she could utter another word. Scieszka poked the blond commanding officer in the side until she snapped out of it, almost glaring until she remembered the envelope. By now, Havoc, Fuery, and Breda had noticed it as well, especially since Mustang didn't even stop to say good night to them. As the men gathered around her, Riza pulled out a piece of paper within, her mouth dropping open in shock, as it only had two words written in large text.

The Private pulled the paper from her hands, reading it out loud for her as she suddenly went mute, "'You win'? You win! You won the bet! We win!"

"No!" Jean cried, nearly swallowing the spent butt of the cigarette hanging in his mouth. He yanked the paper from the young woman who pounced towards him to snag it back. Havoc turned his back to fend her off, too enraged as he read it to let anyone else get close, "No, no, no, no, noooooo!"

The sudden simultaneous joy and anarchy erupting around her were lost on Riza as she stood there numb. That was it? All he had to tell her was that she won? So what if she won? What kind of response was that!? Enraged as well, she yanked the envelope open wide to search for something, anything, more. Maybe he had anticipated that. She blinked at seeing a neatly folded piece of paper in the bottom with her name on the outside. Suddenly, her heart was in her throat. She pulled it out and turned away from them before anyone caught her with it. Besides, disciplining Havoc and Scieszka for fighting over the winner of the bet was the last thing on her mind as she read Roy's letter.

Riza,

As you know, you've won. It probably seems like a small thing now, and it probably is, but at least it's a piece of closure. I probably should be telling you this to your face, or at least watching as you read this, but I'm too much of a coward. Out of everyone who trusts me with their lives, you alone deserve the truth the most. And that truth is that I was wrong, and that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to hide the darkness in me from you, or used it as the reason to push you away. Out of the two of us, I should have realized sooner that you are the stronger one. The truth is that yes, I've done unforgivable things I am still paying for. Things I was ordered to do and I obeyed. I have killed people, innocent people. Ask me and I'll tell you the full story, if still you want to hear it.

I am not a man to look up to or protect for what I've done, but you're not leaving that choice up to me, are you? I may not see it but you do. You never did believe that I'm the bastard everyone says I am, or the soiled soul I have condemned myself to be. Thank you, for believing in me. But . . . I also lied to you. Having you love me is enough. But, I know asking you to feel that way about me after shattering our chance at a relationship before it even began would be too much. All I ask for is just your forgiveness, and to be your friend again. At least, if you don't file for a transfer out of the department in the morning, I'll know that you have forgiven me. I could live with that. Everything else? I think I'll leave that up to you.

I love you,

Roy Mustang

The envelope dropped from her hands even as she still clutched to the letter, nearly crumpling it. He did love her. She wobbled on her heels as her knees weakened. That horrible, wonderful bastard still loved her. He loved her! She probably would have shouted it and shattered her ice queen image forever if it weren't beyond her capacity to speak at the moment. Scieszka noticed her sway a moment, blinking in concern, "You ok, Lieutenant?"

"I-," she started to say as she quickly folded up the letter, but held onto it, looking around the office while the others were still arguing over the validity of her two word victory. For a moment, her world spun, turning from topsy-turvy back to normal again, better than normal. It was amazing how three little words written in a letter could turn the day from hell into one of the best moments in her life. But . . . there was someone missing. Slowly, a radiant, confident smile spread across her face, shining up to her eyes, "I'm fine."

Oh, she would be fine alright as soon as she found Mustang. Riza grabbed her trench coat and bag, ignoring the others as she almost flew out the door. The whole commotion caused in the aftermath of Roy's announcement stopped as the winner disappeared in a hurry. Havoc was the first to speak, blinking, "What's gotten into her?"

Breda smirked, putting the pieces of the day together faster than anyone else, "Don't know, but my ten says neither of them will be in tomorrow."

Scieska grinned along with Heymans, turning away as she headed for the door herself, "And my ten says Jean Havoc will be a poor man by morning since he keeps making lousy bets."

"Hey! Jury's still out on that, sweetheart! There's no way in hell the Colonel could like her enough to sleep with her!" Havoc yelled after the private, but she was already gone as he grumbled, "Besides, I'll still win if Roy can name the color of Hawkeye's underwear as pink."

* * *

Running in heels was always a challenge, which made the blonde look entirely inelegant as she sprinted across the empty atrium. Everyone on their floor had already headed home or was in the lifts or on the stairways to the lobby. She didn't see him. He didn't leave already, did he? Roy must have been stopped somewhere, maybe somewhere on the stairs. He never left the office without being deterred by someone with something 'important'. If she could just cut him off before he got to the main doors. Riza tried not to panic, thinking logically on how to get down to the lobby the fastest way possible. She ran for the nearest elevator, the doors of the first one she found already open as people piled in. Among the officers, she noticed one with a familiar shock of black hair. When he turned around, Riza knew immediately that it was Mustang. She ran faster to try and make it, yelling across the floor, "Wait! Hold the-!"

The doors slid closed, just as Roy's eyes locked with hers, and then he was gone.

"Door . . ." she said with a frown, putting her head against the steel, "Damn."

She glanced at the stairway near by, almost that desperate to run down four flights, but she knew she'd never make it. There was always dropping by his house and utterly surprising him. That was, if she knew where he lived. He didn't even know where her apartment was. Maes couldn't help since he was probably already on his way home for the night. It was no use. The only consolation she had was the fact that he finally admitted everything to her. Maybe in the morning they could talk and sort out all the lingering issues between them. Besides, she still needed to sort out what she'd do when she saw him again anyway. Maybe running after him wasn't a good idea to begin with, and knowing the warm tingle in the pit of her loins, the last thing she could do if she saw him right now would be to talk. Waiting for tomorrow was going to be very, very hard to do.

Sighing, she backed away and lingered by the door, resigning herself to a night alone with Hayate and a love letter. It was still in her hands too, she realized with a blush. Just as she was tucking the folded piece of paper into her bag, the elevator rumbled up the shaft. The doors slid open as Riza started to step forward before abruptly stopping. Roy grinned at her as he stood inside the lift, alone. Her mouth dropped open as she stood in the doorway, holding the doors back, "You waited?"

"You were running, in heels," he said as his grinned widened, "The effort for my sake deserved a reward."

Suddenly, the Lieutenant found herself grinning as well before her lips quirked to the side. This time he had nowhere to run. Riza stepped into the elevator and let the doors slide closed behind her. She let her coat and bag drop to the floor as he blinked. Before Roy could utter a word, her lips were on top of his, startling him with the suddenness of the kiss as he murmured. He dropped his satchel and let her push him back against the wall, dimly aware that they were still going down. When he decided to ride the elevator back up to meet her, this was a lot warmer of a reception than he expected. Maes was right about those damned sparks and kissing, even if he didn't realize it. Feeling her mouth go slack to the intrusion of his tongue didn't make him feel quite so lost anymore. It only made him surer that this was the right choice, his arms tightening over her body. Maybe he was at peace with it now that he'd stopped fighting it and let it go. He could get used to this, used to her in his life. As she moaned when Roy pulled away to kiss her neck, he knew he could get used to this very much. But just as his hands tugged her skirt up an inch or so, the bell rung and the elevator doors slid open.

At the sound they pushed each other away as if nothing had happened. They stood very still in the back and turned slightly away from one another as three more officers came in. Roy let out the breath he'd been holding when none of them shot the pair any dirty looks. That was too close. He should have pulled the damned stop button. Next to him, Riza was thinking along the same lines as she pulled her skirt back into place, then delicately crouched and bent to pick up her coat and bag before they got trampled on. Before she got very far, he grabbed her hand to stop her. "Not yet . . ." he said in a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

What exactly was he planning now?

The doors opened again at the lobby, and the three officers left while no one else entered. Mustang pulled her with him towards the side wall and the controls, pressing her up against it roughly. He lunged for the control panel, jabbing the button to shut the door and the one for the sixth floor. The doors closed quickly and the lift shot up. A grin spread over her reddened lips, knowing exactly what he was doing. Roy grinned back, only his was much more devious, bordering on impish. His arms trapped her from moving and his eyes stopped her from looking away as he leaned in, hovering just out of reach of her lips. The elevator stopped and the doors opened onto the empty floor, but neither of them moved to leave the lift. He jabbed the door close button then covered her lips with his. As soon as the doors closed, Riza's arms wrapped over his neck, her head tilted back. For a moment, all he could think about was kissing her until the elevator moved down with a jolt, making him break away from her for a moment. Shit. He finally remembered what he was supposed to do, and tugged on the stop button, the lift grinding to a halt.

The blonde pressed under him giggled, but was silenced with another kiss until it turned into a low moan. That sound was enough to send Roy's blood racing, remembering back to those moments in his office, the consuming need to touch her. He pulled his lips away with a groan and bent to kiss her neck. Her hands tugged on his black overcoat and the buttons of his jacket, trying to remove them both at once. She pulled them down his arms, but his hands were too busy to be moved. The skirt rose up to her waist with a sharp yank, those fingers touching skin and lace as she buried her face in his neck to muffle the sound. No coaxing was needed as her legs parted. Roy groaned as he felt her inner thigh pass over the outside of his then slide up, her heel digging into the back of his knee.

His hips thrust forward on their own, making her gasp when she was trapped between his body and the railing on the wall that pressed into her rear. The lace of her panties rubbed over the crotch of his pants each time they moved against each other, the flesh underneath growing hard. Roy's arms pulled away and flailed to remove the coat and jacket, flinging the garments on the floor. The Lieutenant yanked on his shirt collar for another kiss before her hands dropped down and around to his back. His hips ground into hers hard as she groped his rear, as if he needed anything else to spur him on. There were still too many issues and clothes between them, but as the scent of her arousal filled the small elevator, clothes took priority.

With a grunt, Roy lifted her up until she sat on the railing, back pressed flat against the wall now. He grabbed her hands too as she pulled out part of his shirt, and pinned them over her head. For the moment, neither of them moved at they stared into each other's eyes, tangled together with their panting breaths and beating hearts as the only sounds. There was a half mad, half pained look in his dark eyes, and Riza wondered for a moment if he'd, run as this was close to the position they were in the last time before he backed off. Before she could ponder that further, his hips thrust quickly forward, rubbing her folds and clit through the delicate material as she gasped. Ok, so, he definitely wasn't going anywhere now. "I never thought the first time I made love to a woman in Headquarters would be in the elevators," he breathed into her ear, unrelenting as he pressed into her, "We have to be fast."

"Then be fast, for goodness sake," Riza's hips counteracted with his, her legs lifting off the floor to wrap over his, "And this is the first? What? The desk didn't count?"

He groaned and shuddered, the heat between them building, "Doesn't count, never finished."

"Your fault."

"I know, I'm a fucking idiot," Roy said with a choked chuckle, moving faster as if there weren't at least three layers of fabric between them. Clothes didn't seem to matter as much as he thought. She arched sharply as if to buck him off, a muffled cry swallowed by his lips. Her pale skin was beautifully pink and red all over in contrast with the mad array of fallen golden hair, lopsided as half of it was coming out of the clip. The front of her panties were soaked, the liquid smeared over his pants, but neither of them noticed it. They didn't notice the sweat either. A bead of it rolled down Riza's face, but she didn't care, the heat too great along with the feeling. Her hands slipped from his grip to tear at his shirt, ripping open the collar with the pop of a few buttons before she buried her face in his neck. When her teeth dug into the bend of his throat in a bite, Mustang grunted off the pain and retaliated with a bite of his own. He was only dimly aware of anything but rubbing against her yielding body. Nothing else mattered except the pounding of blood in his ears and the sharp jolts of pleasure. Roy realized in that moment that he wasn't going to make it much longer. And yet, the heated look in Riza's brown eyes was enough to soothe his ego, knowing she was closer to the edge than he was.

One of his hands dropped to her folds, helping her along in that release as he found her clit and rubbed along with his thrusts. Riza's voice rose at the added pleasure, muffling it again in his shoulder. This wasn't quite the type of fulfillment he'd hoped for, even if it was pretty damned close. He wanted to screw her, damnit! Not dry-hump his way to release! The heat of her center was so very tempting, but this was enough, for now. His heart pounded with pride knowing that he was the cause of this fire in the normally placid blonde. She really was his now, the possessiveness making it all the more intense as he ground into her. Riza clung to Roy's chest, shuddering violently each time her hips rolled into his. Her voice moaned his name, and the sound brought him closer faster than the feel of her body. She gave a sharp cry into his neck and went still before shaking in his arms. The heat of her center blazed against him along with the wetness, seeping down into his clothes. He didn't need to see the glazed over look in her eyes to know she had come, but he didn't stop either, possessed for his own release.

Riza recovered quickly, moaning as she felt down his torso through two layers of shirts. He could feel her nails drag along the fabric, the scraping sound painful to listen to but erotic at the same time. Then her hands dropped to his pants, touching him when he wasn't pressed against her. Roy groaned and shuddered, returning the feeling as his hands groped her breasts through the thin black knit of her turtleneck. Before he could stop her, the blonde's fingers pulled open the zipper in his fly and dove into his boxers. He cried out when she grabbed his loins but stopped the sound by kissing her. If he could just hold out a little longer to feel more of her touching him . . . If he could hold off long enough to actually move her panties out of the way and bury himself into her. That was so tempting of an idea, even if he was too aroused. He'd never make it past two thrusts, especially if her hand didn't stop now. Yet, her hand felt just as good. Any part of Riza felt good. Roy kissed her harder, intent on possessing her mouth as his body burned with the stroke of her fingers. It couldn't get better than this could it? Then suddenly, she slipped along the railing the more he pressed her, bumping into the control panel.

The elevator moved with a jolt, and both of them cursed, "Shit!"

"Damnit!"

"Pull the stop!"

He fumbled around her, trying to pull it to no success as the elevator kept on moving, "It's stuck . . ."

Riza sagged under him with a frustrated groan. Roy winced and moved off of her, working on fixing his pants with a raging hard-on that refused to be anything but noticeable. Of all the shitty luck and bad choices he had today, this had to be the worst. Nothing could possibly be worse than watching her pull that skirt down, again, and being able to do nothing about it. That damned skirt. They quickly tugged their clothes back in place, coats and jacket back on, and bags in hand when the lift stopped. Riza's hair looked terrible, and they were both still horribly flushed. Roy still cursed mildly to himself, holding his satchel like a shield over the front of his pants. It would be a miracle if no one figured out who they were or what they'd done in that elevator. The doors opened on the lobby, and a crowd of officers walked in as the pair walked out before anyone could stop them. The Colonel kept muttering to himself, a curse passing his lips after every other word. He wasn't the only one that wanted to scream in frustration as Riza walked next to him, if only more embarrassed for being the cause of the mishap. And just when it was so good too! "I'm sorry, sir . . ." she said softly, back to walking two steps behind him.

If he heard her, he didn't say anything, brooding as she winced. Then suddenly, he softly said the last thing she expected, least of all in public, "Still calling me sir? I'm going to have to cure you of that habit. I'll have to spank my name into you until you remember it."

Riza's mouth dropped open in shock then she blushed, smiling softly. It had sounded so wrong for him to say that, but . . . after what they'd done, it was oddly fitting. He never was going to change completely, but suddenly she didn't mind his flirtingly lecherous side anymore. That was probably because he could back up all his boasting with technique. Her blush turned a shade deeper. They were almost to the door out of Headquarters when he stopped, turning towards her. There was a question in his eyes, and he was still sweating. He seemed nervous, which made her uneasy, "What is it?"

"We need to talk, and . . ." Roy started to say before moving closer, bending over to whisper into her ear, "You want to continue this, right?"

Now that was an offer she had expected from him. Her lips quirked into a grin, a sadistic gleam in her brown eyes, "I don't know, I mean I'm kind of tired after that, and I'm sure you have many other girlfriends to help you with that problem, but if you're begging me . . ."

She was evil, pure evil, or at least paying him back with interest. But if she didn't say things like that, he wouldn't have admired her as much. And she couldn't be serious, right? That grin of hers was anything but serious. He grinned a moment too, deciding to play along. There was something he needed to tell her too. Roy leaned in closer, whispering to her again, this time half as nervous, and twice as sincere, "Riza, I'm begging you, please, there's no one else that I . . . love more than you. I don't want anyone but you."

There, he said it, out loud, and to her, not written in some apologetic love letter. And as her face went completely red despite the radiant smile gracing her lips, it was worth it to say. She only had one thing to ask, "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

To Be Continued  



	4. Cutting the Losses, Cont

"Follow me," Roy grinned wide and started walking fast through the lobby. She followed by his side, matching his pace this time. 

There was a fiery determination in his dark eyes that made her knees weak every time he looked at her as they walked. Almost as if he was undressing her and calculating what he was going to do to her once they were alone. It was difficult to keep up without getting distracted by similar thoughts. All she had to do was take one glance at where he held his satchel to know what he was covering up. It took all her concentration to keep from actively pondering whether he was still hard under there or not.

Her pace picked up a lot more after that idle thought though.

No one noticed them as they disappeared down one of the side hallways. The offices they passed were empty. Most of the building was similarly devoid of life except for the few officers on call that worked late into the night. He put his hand in hers once they were alone and pulled her towards a closed door at the end of the hall. Once inside, she recognized it despite the darkness from lack of lights as one of the emergency staircases. Wasn't it supposed to be off limits except in an evacuation? Apparently, to Roy, it didn't matter. "This way," he said, "There's a study library on the fifth floor, it's always empty now."

He started up the stairs and she followed. Once on the landing, she noticed him wince, still sweating. "Are you ok?" Riza asked and he stopped, looking at her.

Roy's dark eyes said one thing, but his words said another, "I'm fine, let's just hurry. I'm kind of eager here."

The truth was that walking hurt when all he wanted was her, badly. He wasn't fine at all, and he was even less fine when she asked and kept staring. Her brown eyes kept looking straight at his crotch every time his satchel moved, like she was imagining how he looked naked from after what she felt earlier. And damnit, he wanted to show her before he went insane or limp. Riza sensed the same thing as he trudged up the second floor landing with her right behind him. She stopped him before he got much further, pulling him backwards down the stairs. The Colonel's mouth dropped open to ask what she was doing, but didn't get very far as she kissed him. He murmured in surprise, even more startled when she pushed him against the wall. Roy yielded, his eyes sliding closed, but the satchel stayed between them. She tried to pull it out of the way until he wrenched his lips away from hers, sense coming back to him, "Riza, what are you doing? We have three more flights to go, one hallway, a door, and one table, then I'll do whatever you want, just-."

She smirked, and he gulped, not expecting it to come out like that, "I'll do whatever I, I, want to you, that's what I-Riza!"

It was too late as she dropped to into a crouch in front of him, swatting the bag out of his hands and onto the floor. Roy went stiff as she grabbed his straining member through the pants, remembering the elevator all too well. He tried to grab her shoulders to push her away until she glared up at him. It was a silent exchange of looks, and Mustang yielded, again, as she undid the belt and opened his fly. He groaned, trying not to feel guilty when his pants quickly fell down along with his black boxers. This would have been entirely funny to him the day before, the guilty feeling he had over a blowjob, but now? This wasn't a normal problem, but since he wanted to touch her so much . . . He wasn't too sure, just that it wasn't fair. All he knew was that look of hers was downright scary, like she would kill him if he did anything but shut up and put up. Given his balls were in her hands, giving in was the only option. And as her eyes turned to something fiery now that he was exposed, Roy figured he could live with a little more guilt.

Riza pulled the clip in her hair free, feeling the golden locks tumbling over him as she shook her head. He groaned, but stopped the sound by biting the inside of his mouth. This still didn't feel right, even if her hair teasing him as she bent over felt very right. Roy hissed in a sharp breath as her fingers touched the foreskin, pushing it back as her hand wrapped over his length. She stroked him, slow and firm, and all thoughts of what he should and shouldn't do were gone. Mustang sagged against the wall, watching intently even if he could barely see her in the dark. The touch of her hair engulfed him as much as her hands as she leaned in close and held him against her neck and shoulder while rubbing. She lifted his shirt, kissing his abdomen as he clenched with each breath, unable to hold back his moans any longer. Riza was actually grinning when she looked up at him, dragging her tongue across the muscles before pulling back to whisper, "It's been a while since I've done this, promise not to bite."

Roy yelped at the graze of her teeth on his skin along with the teasing threat, but then felt a pang of jealousy flare, "You've done this before?"

"And you haven't?" she asked, and he was caught. That was it. No more asking about sexual histories, not until he'd had her once at least. He cursed mildly as her mouth kissed lower and lower on his hips until her face was buried in the nest of dark curls at the base. His eyes slid closed and his head banged against the wall as her tongue swirled over him, moving up. Then came her teeth, nipping gently, and Roy jumped in her grasp, twitching. He was so close before, and even closer now, dying to feel the whole of her mouth engulf him before he lost it. But she was teasing him, prolonging it as her hand caressed and then yanked on his balls each time they tightened. She was purposefully holding him on the edge until he was sensitive to her every breath. As her lips lightly encased and sucked on the head, he had to fight to keep from thrusting his hips forward into the warmth. "Oh god," he muttered when her head finally sank down on him.

This was going to be embarrassing.

Riza had barely started when Mustang groaned, and roughly pushed her off of him. Before she could protest, his hand dropped to his shaft, jerking it quick until he came with a shudder. His seed spilled all over her black shirt, but the Lieutenant didn't seem to care as she grinned, perhaps in victory. And he wanted to wait until they got up the stairs. He wouldn't have lasted more than two minutes. Roy leaned back against the wall again, spent. She leaned in again to wipe off the excess with her fingers before giving him one last lick, and he didn't move to stop her. "You're evil . . ." he muttered, half-moaning the words, "Absolutely killing me already . . . you're not going to go spreading this around, are you?"

Riza giggled and stood up, digging through her bag for a handkerchief to blot away the cum all over her shirt, "Which part? That I fulfilled every officer's fantasy with you on one of the emergency staircases, that you have the stamina of a rabbit, or that we're in love?"

The Colonel couldn't help but grin at her admission, only the second time one of them had slipped up, forgetting for a moment that she'd also insulted him, "So you do still love me . . ."

The blonde smiled softly as he pulled her into his arms, "Well, I wouldn't have run for that elevator if I hated you, or nearly attacked you when the doors closed, or let you attack me, or attacked you again and used my mouth. Really, what kind of woman do you take me for?"

He kissed her cheek then her lips, turning her in his arms until she was against the wall this time. She had anticipated this, allowing his mouth to ravage hers, waiting for his hands to touch her again, but he didn't, pulling away before the kisses turned too heated to stop. Roy grinned, languidly brushing a lock of hair away from her face, and she blushed. His words only made the pink stain on her cheeks turn red, "I take you for exactly the type of woman you are, which is anything but easy."

Riza opened her mouth to protest, until the meaning of his words got to her, deepened the color in her face more until she was bordering on purple. That seemed to be their preferred flirting method of choice, a compliment by way of insult. It worked well, "Um . . . now would be a good time to pull your pants up, Roy, and to get your hand off my breast."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't, I won't be held responsible if we get caught in the stair well," she said as she slipped free, hurrying up the stairs before she had second thoughts. There was a rustle of heavy fabric, and she knew he was following her up the stairs again after their interlude. When they reached the fifth floor, Roy pulled her back before she opened the door, and motioned to her feet. Sighing softly as she knew what he wanted, she slipped off the heels and watched as he untied his shoes and took them off as well. They were sneaking around like naughty children daring to get caught, which triggered every warning Riza had. This was not the way to form a lasting relationship after almost mutual declarations of love. As much as her gut was telling her that they had moved way too fast from friends to lovers, there still felt something right about it. He led her through the deserted hallway to one of the doors then pulled her inside the small library, closing and locking the door behind them.

It was dark, night having fallen outside the windows, and Roy had moved away from her. Then a dim light came on after a small click of his fingers. There was a small orange flame glowing in what looked like an old oil-burning lamp, and the rest of the room came into focus. They were in a study library alright, as they stood around a long table on which the lamp sat, chairs flanking it. Rows of bookshelves sat further behind, a fine layer of dust on the texts. Scieszka would have had a field day with this little hide out. Roy pulled the gloves from his fingers and put them in his pocket again, "I studied in here for my exam after I got lucky enough to gain access. Took me the whole summer until the test to be ready, and no one uses it anymore after the First Branch filled up . . . this part of the building is old too, no electricity, which is why there are the lamps."

He dropped his discarded shoes on the floor then shed his overcoat, jacket, and bag, throwing them over one of the chairs as he continued, "I always did want to bring a woman up here."

Riza smirked, reminded yet again that she wasn't the first woman to have Roy Mustang, just the first to be in this particular place with him. It seemed like a life that would die hard. For a moment she felt a mixture of jealousy at those other women, and contempt that none of them had tried to hold onto him. A tiny part of her was angry at how blasé he sounded when he said that. It made her wonder if he really did mean those three little words as sincerely as she thought. She peeled off her coat and bag as well, tossing them into another chair along with her heels, "Should I feel honored?"

There was a touch too much disdain in her voice that made her wince. She hasn't meant it like that and her heart sagged, but it only got worse when he frowned at her, "Roy, I didn't-."

"It's ok, Riza," he said, "Thinking back on every woman I've casually slept with, I probably deserved that."

"But-," Damnit, why she to open her mouth and start a fight now, "I didn't-."

Her words were stopped when he yanked her into his arms, holding her tightly. The tension of an impending argument emptied out of Riza before it had even started till she was relaxed in the embrace. He was almost clinging to her, his face buried in her hair, and she felt oddly at peace. Maybe she was wrong to think of this all being a bad thing. It'd been a while since her last relationship, so long that she almost forgot what caring about someone else was like until here that person was again, hugging to her like a life-preserver. In that silent moment, when Roy hugged her tightly, devoid of sexual want, she knew he really did love her. "I'm sorry, I meant every word in that letter, and this is what you chose for us. I'm more honored just holding you than you'll ever know . . . there's a million reasons I don't deserve you at all," he said softly, "Mostly because I'm the biggest idiot asshole in all of Amestris."

She gave a snort of laughter, breathing in his scent while dipping her face into his collar, "No, you're not. You didn't deserve that since both of us have been . . . well, we're not exactly innocent, and this is fast, but you get my point, right? I just . . . I don't think it's all sunk in yet."

"Darling, that makes the two of us."

"Darling?" Riza asked, trying not to make a face in distaste, "I guess it works, better than honey."

Roy chuckled and the moment passed, even if he still held her close. Slowly, she felt his lips on her neck, wetting the black material of her shirt. Her arms reached up to his neck, hugging him to her, and the alchemist pulled away enough to look in her eyes. Something must have crossed between their looks as the tenderness passed, replaced with desire when his lips touched hers again. One moan of Riza's into the kiss and Mustang was lost again, fumbling to draw her closer against him than she was already. He took a step towards the table as she followed, and it was a step too many when he collided with the side of it, yelping in pain. She giggled as he winced, but neither of them let go of the other, still connected with kisses of varying degrees of passion. The blonde slowly slid past his body and sat down on the table, pulling at his un-tucked shirt. His legs wedged between hers as she slowly laid back, knowing this time they probably wouldn't stop even if the Fuhrer himself walked into that little study.

Riza pulled him down with her while her hips once again settled against his. That was the third time today her skirt had been pushed or pulled out of the way as well, yanked up in all the movement. His hand pulled at her shirt when he wasn't busy trying to feel under it. The Lieutenant was doing a much better job on Roy's, ignoring the buttons to lift it up and over his head when the collar was undone. The garment got tossed off to the floor, followed by his undershirt when the Colonel stood up straight and peeled it off slowly. Just watching him take it off was enough to make her quiver, her eyes glued to him. Roy must have liked the expression on her face, as he didn't stop there, undoing the belt buckle of his pants then the zipper before shedding them as well. Before she could even blink, the black boxers were gone too, along with her voice. So this wasn't the first time he'd been exposed to her, just the first time he was completely naked, visually driving home the fact that they were well beyond just fooling around on desks, in elevators, and on stairs.

As she watched Roy's sex rise and harden just under her gaze, Riza suddenly didn't want to be the only one still dressed. He leaned over to kiss her, practically climbing up onto the table to join her. His hips pressed down and her legs automatically closed over him as his loins rubbed over her center. She couldn't hold back her moans as his hands finally pulled her shirt up to just under her arms and stopped. Damnit, her holster was in the way. It was either that or he was stunned by her choice in bras. As his hands touched the sheer black lace covering her breasts instead of going for the leather straps on her shoulder, she knew it was the latter. "You didn't wear this for me, did you?" Roy asked with a teasing lilt on his voice, his grin as shameless as ever.

Riza tried to get her voice to work, but managed only a groan instead while turning bright red, squirming as his hands groped the soft orbs. His thumb rubbed over a nipple, licking his lips at her high-pitched cry. The sound of her voice made Roy's grin grow even wider and his heart burst with pride before they'd ever started. If he had known, if he had opened his eyes, they would have done this sooner, a lot sooner. She was about to get up when he pushed her back down, pressing flat against her hips and stomach. The blonde gasped as his mouth descended on one breast while the other one was being toyed with. His tongue licked the fabric, teasing the peak underneath, and then sucked on it, drawing another moan from her throat. When he's had enough, Roy yanked the lace out of the way, not bothering to unclasp her bra. She started to get up again, but collapsed, as his mouth had no intention of letting go. He sucked on her pale brown nipple until it almost hurt in rigidity, making her bite her fingers to keep from crying out again. He grinned at her, his hands stroking her heaving chest as she panted, "How did you know I liked black lace?"

"I didn't, but most men like it," Riza answered, her skin almost cherry red. He finally released it, watching as she crawled back along the table, then sat up. Her hands pulled at the holster still strapped to her shoulder, and Roy moved to help her, only to get swatted away, "Don't touch my gun."

"But, it's just a gun, Riza," he said, suddenly very intent to help her, just to spite her. She glared at him when he made his move, but he stopped when her hand shot forward to grab his member and balls. Then she squeezed, making all thoughts of messing with her run from his head. Roy didn't know if it was out of pleasure or pain, but he froze completely, shuddering when her wrapped over him to give an aggressive yank. He doubled over with a start, almost knocking into her as he groaned, loudly. Now that felt good. Roy tried to grab her wrist before she did it again, but her hand was gone. That was very evil of her, but he couldn't help but grin, "What was that for?"

"I'm very protective of my guns, and you left a weak point open," Riza said as she finally pulled the holster free and dropped it gently on the table, sliding it out of the way. Her shirt finally followed as she stripped, but he didn't even notice. A weak point? A weak point?! What the hell?! Roy frowned, "I thought that was one of my strong points . . ."

She was unhooking her bra when he had said that, and stopped to laugh softly, covering her mouth in her hands. After a moment, she went back to taking off the lingerie, slipping the straps from her shoulders. A small seductive smile spread over her lips with a fiery glint in her brown eyes as the lace dropped free, "Well, I'd need a demonstration to determine if that's true or not."

The double shot of a come on and an insult made Roy groan without having to be touched. She was good, so good it was scary, and just when he thought he couldn't be in love with her more, he was. The Colonel moved along the table, crawling over on hands and knees, and kissed her. Riza's arms embraced his neck again, and he drew her against him as he sat back on his legs. His tongue dueled with hers, drawing out each small cry in her voice. Their bodies rubbed together in the heat of the kiss, and Mustang knew he couldn't wait much longer. His hands searched for the zipper to the damned skirt, and found it on the side. He pulled away from her lips and cursed when it didn't budge any further, "Damn."

Riza pulled away a moment, drawing her legs together, and then took it off herself, the blue fabric sliding down to her knees and stopping as they bent. For a moment, in his haste, Roy considered ripping the black panties off of her, but stopped as another thought occurred to him. He pulled away even more from her, but bent over to whisper in her ear, "Turn around."

She complied, shivering in anticipation that warmed her stomach. Just when her back was turned towards him, Mustang's arms encircled her waist, holding her tightly against his chest. Riza moaned and tilted her head away as she felt his mouth suck on her neck. His hands slid over her breasts and waist, rough touches followed by gentle ones as she writhed against him. Her head rolled back onto his shoulder, golden hair slipping over his chest as his hands moved down closer to the edge of the black lace. He groaned into her ear then nibbled on the outer edge to relieve some of the tension running through him. The blonde in his arms probably had no idea what she was doing to him each time she moved, her hips sitting on his. Each sway of her butt was another stroke against him, making it very tempting indeed just to move that lace out of the way. Unable to hold in back anymore, his hand gripped the material covering her center tightly, hooking on the skin underneath as she cried out.

Ripping it would feel very good around now, but . . . he couldn't face her wrath when it was the only pair she had. His hand slid under the waistband, and he turned his wrist to pull it down; thankful she wore them over the garters and stockings. Those he could live without stripping them from her. Roy tightened his other arm on her waist, lifting her up as he yanked them down, finally, pulling them off completely, along with the skirt. Both garments disappeared off the table as he tossed them, and Riza sunk back against his chest, naked, well, naked enough. His hand moved up the inside of her thigh, brushing the silk stockings, and her legs parted as she shuddered. The gentle touch of two fingers on her folds brought waves of heat crashing over her skin, sweating as she moved, trying to feel more of him. His palm cupped her center, rubbing it as she moaned while flexing her hips in time. Roy's eyes closed as he kissed her shoulder gently, the flesh under his hand growing in heat and wetness. Her clit stuck out the more he played with her, begging for attention as he brushed it. Riza jumped in his arms then settled back with a moan, her voice breathless but commanding, "Roy, enough foreplay."

"I outrank you, don't make me order you to come," he said, and she could feel his grin as he kissed her neck. The whine in her voice was unmistakable even if the groan covered it. "You're horrible," she said as she shuddered, retaliating by grinding her hips back against his, "We've waited long enough, either put it in me, or I'll do it myself."

Roy growled, his restraint challenged on all fronts. It felt like they were in the middle of a personal war, again, and he was losing, again. He drew her hard against him in pay back, stilling her hips as she moaned. Riza understood enough for the both of them as her legs curled under her, planted on either side of his. She bent over, almost on her hand and knees, and felt his member rub her folds. Mustang fumbled in his haste as his resistance finally shattered, missing her entrance. He cursed again, and above him the blonde shook with silent laughter. Her hand dropped between them, not chancing it as she guided him. His hips thrust up, and this time the wet flesh parted. Roy groaned, momentarily feeling his breath leave him, reality crashing in. A day ago, he'd said about the dumbest thing possible, but it was now the most fortunate thing he'd ever said in his life. Fate, it seemed, had the most fucked up sense of timing.

Her hips rolled and his thoughts were scattered, his concentration back on the task at, err, hand. Roy pulled her back against his chest, rougher than he meant to be, but she moaned anyway. He buried his face in her hair and neck, muffling his groans as she moved for them both. All he could do was follow, counteracting her hips while clinging to her. Riza's head rolled back onto his shoulder, and he kissed her, deeply, held there when her hand fisted his dark hair. He was beginning to like this in her, this assertiveness, this passion that seemed to spring up in her. Maybe it was because she loved him that much. Maybe this was the way she always was outside of the office. He didn't care as he broke the pace and thrust up into her quick and hard, enjoying her shudders before she fought back just as much. As long as no one else but him could witness this side of her, he didn't care where it came from.

Riza started to cry out when she broke away from his lips until his hand clamped over her mouth to silence her. He felt the same way as he bit her neck again to stop his own groaning, tasting the salty sweat on her skin. The movement of her hips was becoming more frantic as his hand dropped between her legs. As soon as his fingers brushed her clit, Riza bent down until she was practically sprawled across the table, ripping herself from his arms. Mustang followed though, hunched over her as he took over control. He moved quicker and harder, feeling her arch and writhe each time. For an odd moment, he wondered how her eyes looked when she came. All he could see was the profile of her face contort each time he pounded deep into her. It was something he didn't care to watch before in the elevator, but now he cared a lot. Roy pulled out despite the protests of his body, impulse taking over as he turned her to face him.

She glared at him for stopping until he kissed her, sinking back between her legs. Riza's body arched in movement and this time it was her clinging to him. Her nails scratched down his back, and her mouth bit his neck in return, but he was immune to the pain, focused solely on the clench of her walls around him. He wanted to feel her shudder terribly again, feeling the tension running through her with each thrust. She was as close as he was, that was obvious enough when her hands groped his ass, prodding him to go faster. Roy pushed her down by the shoulders, pinning her wiggling as her eyes flashed up to his. That was exactly how he wanted her, watching the depths of brown shift each time he moved. He just wanted to watch her a little longer like this. Something seemed to snap and her face twisted, her eyes flashing before scrunching shut. Just before they'd closed, Roy saw what he knew would be there between waves of desire, and he was at peace with it.

Riza's mouth opened to scream but nothing came out. Everywhere they touched she dug into him, as if she was going to tear him apart for what he did to her. Then she shuddered, arching into him desperately as her walls clenched. Roy held on, still trusting into her despite the lock of her legs over his waist, but surrendered to it as well with one final push before he collapsed on top of her. His forehead smacked into the table, but he was too far gone to notice as he shuddered as well, the pleasure rolling over him in its wake. The seed spilled into her, and he groaned, quivering as she still held tightly to him. Finally, they both went still, listening to the others breath in the dark room with the oil lamplight flickering over them.

Roy moved first, withdrawing and rolling onto his back to her right. He just laid there, numb and exhausted, physically and mentally. What had he just done? Made love to Riza Hawkeye, right? A stupid grin crossed his face as he felt her hand in his. Everything Maes had said to him earlier made sense now. Even if home was just the two of them together, he finally felt it. Looking over to see a similar stupefied look of peace on the blonde's face, he knew she had felt it too. "I love you," Roy whispered, rolling over to pull her side against his.

He kissed her cheek then felt her lip brush over his, breathing the words against his mouth, "I love you too, Mustang."

A pleasurable growl erupted from his throat and he kissed her deeper, ignoring the rest of his body as it revolted, protesting that he wasn't ready for round two. Riza wasn't either when she pulled away, giggling when he whined at the loss. He coughed to clear his voice, trying to regain his senses, "Well, now that we know where each of us stands . . ."

"Does this mean we're dating?"

"Does it?" Roy asked, grinning at the idea. Dating his subordinate, while sounding very bad in his head, did have a nice ring to it. But . . . "Are you absolutely sure it's allowed? If this becomes public knowledge that we're not just dating, but um . . ."

"Fucking?"

"Too harsh a word, darling, but it works. But like I said, if this all got out, I have enemies of higher rank that would relish making my life miserable," he said, trying not to frown. Damn, it was a good idea too, "And I hope it would make your life miserable too, not seeing my smiling face first thing in the morning."

"Usually you're the last person I see in the morning, but yes, it would make it harder to cover your handsome ass in another department."

Roy snorted in laughter, blushing slightly in embarrassment. Handsome ass, huh? Now that was clever. It didn't solve their problem though. But then again, there was only one answer to this one. "I guess we'll just have to keep being sneaky until I become Fuhrer," he said, his voice utterly serious.

Riza slapped him right across the abdomen and he yelped, glaring at her, "What?"

"Sneaky I'll agree too, but don't let your delusions of grandeur get to you. It could be years before you become Fuhrer, if you become Fuhrer. It's not possible for us to keep sleeping with each other under everyone's noses for that long before someone finds out," she said before settling back down, "Besides, I'm sure some people know already."

"Are all of them our subordinates?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Then when there's a problem with them, I'm pretty sure all you have to do is wave a gun, shoot a wall, and they'll be as well behaved on the matter as your puppy," he said, grinning, at least until she lightly punched his shoulder, "So violent, no wonder you like guns."

This time she tickled him, going for the ribs. Mustang yelped, fending her off as he grabbed her wrists, "Ok, I'm sorry! . . . It is true through."

"This from the pyromaniac," Riza said with a snorting laugh as he chuckled, "Too bad you're useless in the rain."

"Ouch, harsh . . . why are we still taking potshots at each other?"

"Force of habit?" she offered, and he shrugged. Whatever the reason, it wasn't too uncomfortable to live with. Somehow it would feel wrong if they were just civil to each other during the off hours, even if they were way beyond just being civil now, "I guess it works, after all everyone will know we're in love if we stop fighting completely."

"Or flirting."

"Huh? What?" he asked, confused as he saw her frown.

"Havoc will notice if you suddenly don't have dates, or turn monogamous," she said, trying not to look too upset at this realization, "Hell, all of Central will notice, especially the women."

Suddenly, he regretted being involved with a whole lot of women again, even if most of it was an act or a bandage for his other problems, "I'm sorry, Riza, but you've spoiled me for the rest of the female sex, I don't think I could, well . . ."

Her frown slowly turned into a smile, trying to hold back the appreciative blush creeping over her skin. There was one matter resolved. He wasn't going to cheat on her any time soon. "Then you'll just have to lie. I don't think Havoc or the others are curious enough about your personal life to start tailing you," Riza said, still smiling, "And it would be a perfect cover for . . . our dates."

Now her blush was entirely noticeable, even in the dark. Roy kissed her again, grinning when he pulled away to snuggle against her side, "What did I ever do to deserve you? I don't deserve you at all, but . . . I'm entirely grateful you're mine."

Riza smiled as well, the blush deepening a few shades, "Don't thank me just yet, I don't intend to go soft on you during work."

"I don't intend to either," he said with a suggestive wiggle against her. Riza gasped then turned nearly purple as she held her breath in anger. Intending not to fight fair, she reached over him and brought her hand down on his ass as he yelped in pain, "Riza! That hurt, damnit! Can't I have any fun?!"

"Sir, I'm suppose to make sure you work, not ensure that you're jacking off," she glared until she noticed his grinning. The Lieutenant groaned, banging the back of her head on the table. Damn, and she called him sir too. That habit was not going down easily. Roy chuckled, kissing her again to get her to stop. "You should see the look on your face, it was priceless, but really, I will be serious at work, and on missions, like normal, but . . ." he trailed off, and she didn't like the sound of it, "We're at least repeating the desk episode, once, and maybe only once if your panties are in that much of a knot over it."

"Is that an order, Roy?"

"Have I issued an order yet today?"

"No, but . . ." Riza said before she stopped, pondering it until she sighed, "Alright, but maybe once, and no stripping, we are sneaking around remember, and no more elevators."

"But that was fun, and worth it," Roy said with another stupid grin, the fond memories circling round his head. He was never going to be able to ride the lifts again without grinning like that. Riza giggled, having similar thoughts. Maybe she'd just have to take the stairs. On that thought, neither of them were safe now as she blushed, "Damn you, it's going to take me weeks to make it up to the fourth floor without turning the perfect shade of tomato red."

Mustang laughed, nuzzling her face, which was already the shade of said vegetable. She whined in the back of her throat, but didn't complain any further. Despite her arguments, misgivings, and nagging doubt, there was still a hope in her heart that this would all work out, and it brought a serene smile to her lips. She felt Roy go still next to her in the silence, now that all the jokes were aside. He did think too much sometimes, the worry clear on his face. She reached up to touch his cheek and he flinched, his eyes snapping to her in fear a moment before it softened. "Are you ok?" she asked, growing worried herself.

It took him a long moment after she asked before he answered with his own question, his voice smaller than she thought possible, "You really don't care, do you, about all these things that I've done?"

Sympathy flooded her face as she sat up and turned, looming over him while balanced on one hand. She ran her other hand through his hair and over his cheek, watching as he shuddered and hugged her grounded arm. Apparently he liked to be petted or didn't mind it, even rubbing against her hand. "I do care, Roy, but not the way you think," she said with a sigh, "I . . . don't want to see you suffer anymore for things you cannot change, I care about you too much not to. I won't ask you to tell me until you're ready, but no matter what you have done, you don't have to live with it alone anymore, and I won't run, so . . . you might as well get used to it."

He smiled up at her, then gently kissed her wrist and up her arm before sitting up next to her. His arms pulled her against him, her face at his neck as he spoke, "Thank you . . . you know I really, really don't deserve you."

She poked his ribs and Roy chuckled, "Ok, maybe I do."

He felt her grin against his chest, then her lips on his skin. Roy stopped chuckling and shifted only to feel her shift closer. Her teeth nipped at his neck, and the Colonel knew where this was headed when he ducked his head to kiss her. Riza melted into his lips, going limp as she dragged him back down on top of the table. Roy groaned when she released him, running his hand down her side, "So much for dinner, but I guess I could eat you instead, since it's on you of course."

"Bastard," she called him that name with a chuckle.

"That's Colonel Bastard to you, darling, and I intend to make sure you never forget it."

* * *

A hour, and much mutual but pleasurable soreness later, Colonel Roy Mustang and First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye finally left Central Headquarters side by side. No one noticed that she was wearing a men's cut shirt missing a few buttons, or that he wore just an undershirt beneath his jacket. No one noticed them together as well when Riza went to pick up Black Hayate from the pet sitter, but the pet sitter certainly remembered their teasing jokes on her porch. When asked if she had a hot date tonight, the blonde had said something about him having dark eyes, soft hair, and being well behaved, but that he gave sloppy kisses. Apparently her gentleman friend thought it was in reference to him and not the dog when he groused about his kisses not being sloppy. No one even noticed them, uniforms and all, as they slipped into Riza's apartment building and up to her rooms. None of their subordinates even noticed when they both called in sick the following morning. That was probably because they were too busy fending off Maes Hughes and pictures of his adorable Elysia, who was called in to watch over them.

Nope, apparently sometimes blatancy goes entirely unnoticed.

It wasn't until the Monday after the infamous day of the bet when anyone noticed that they were back in the office after their extended weekend due to a sick day. Despite the bombshell of winning the bet, and the pile of money from Havoc's book-keeping services, Riza's day was like any other, being the first one into the office. Mustang was, again, the last person to show up. They exchanged looks when he entered, but neither of them cracked anything more than a warm smile. He even frowned when she handed him a fresh stack of papers to be signed. Yup, everything was back to normal. "Wait, so you two still aren't sleeping together?" Havoc asked, finally shattering the normalcy.

Roy gagged on the mug of stale coffee he had been sipping, choking violently, and Riza went pale before turning twenty different shade of red at least. They looked at each other and started firing off denial at once, "No, of course-." "How could you ever think that-." "Why would I possibly-." "Wouldn't happen-." "Never-." "Absolutely never-."

"Wait, really never?" Roy broke out of it, grinning incredulously. Riza blushed again and glared at him in anger before turning away to ignore him completely. She then pulled open a drawer in her desk and grabbed a box of ammo, standing up abruptly, "I'm going to the range."

And then she was gone. The Colonel turned to the others in her wake, smirking, "There's your answer, now get back to work before she shoots all of us."

And then he was gone, retreating back into his office. Breda and Fuery groaned as Havoc crowed in triumph, "Pay up, boys! I win!"

They handed over their money, very grudgingly, and went back to work. Jean knew this would be a good day, even if he lost the skirt bet. He'd spent enough on the smaller, and longer running, side bets to cover himself. And yet, when Riza came back an hour later, walked into the Colonel's office, and didn't come out for another fifteen minutes at least without a single argument, Havoc's feeling of victory was completely deflated. What was even worse was when Breda tapped him on the shoulder. He grumbled and put the money back into the guy's hands. Maybe this served him right for betting so much. He really was lousy at it. "Don't look so glum, Jean," Heymans said as he counting his money, "Maybe her underwear isn't black."

"It's pink, I tell you! Pink!" he said, a little too loud as Hawkeye looked up from her desk, just having come out of the office and sat down. Her eyes hardened a moment, and he whimpered, knowing the searing pain of lead and firepower would be coming soon. And yet, it didn't as she smirked. She didn't reach for a gun either. Instead, she pulled off her short jacket and shoulder holster then rolled up the sleeve of her shirt. By now all three of them were staring intently as her fingers were shoved up the garment, grabbing something. And then there it was, the black satin strap of obviously a bra on her white skin. Riza grinned and moved it back in place, "See, black."

This day couldn't get any worse.

"Damn it!"

* * *

The End . . . For Now. Storyline to be continued in Overhaul 2: The Tune-Up. 


End file.
